


The Wand Game, or Eighth Year Discoveries

by ReverieWilde



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bullying, Coming Out, Diary/Journal, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/F, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Prophetic Dreams, Secret Relationship, Slytherin Parties, Smut, long fic, m/m - Freeform, random pairings, switch partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-12 14:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 133,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReverieWilde/pseuds/ReverieWilde
Summary: When Hogwarts begins a new school year after the War, an Eighth Year class is created for those in Harry's year. Pansy Parkinson tells Draco and the other Slytherins about a game their parents used to play called the Wand Game. (the sole purpose of which is to find someone to shag) They invite the Seventh and Eighth Year students from other Houses to come and play. Harry can't believe his bad luck when he gets paired with Draco. But during the course of the game, Harry makes some surprising discoveries about himself. M/M, M/F, smut, odd pairings*Non-canon subjects: In this story, Harry hasn't repaired his wand with the Elder Wand, so it follows the movie rather than the book. Lavender is alive in this also.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini/Harper, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Dean Thomas, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/multiple partners, multiple
Comments: 57
Kudos: 503





	1. starting over

September 1 1998

Eighth Years. There were never Eighth Years at Hogwarts before. The war had changed many things indeed. Hogwarts--the entire wizarding community-- would never be the same. September had rolled around, and as usual, students boarded the Hogwarts express from the station. The first years sat in compartments with students wearing equally nervous expressions. The older students, though seasoned, were still a bit apprehensive about returning. Some of them had been there to see the destruction of their beloved school first-hand. Some had merely read about it or heard about it as they listened in on conversations behind closed doors. 

Professor McGonagall had assured each and every parent that the school had been repaired and restored to its former glory-save for the Room of Requirement. The remaining Death Eaters, who had not perished or been sent to Azkaban, were in the process of being hunted down by the Aurors. Their children were safe. Yet, even the students could see the anxiety in their parents’ faces. They would not be relieved until they received word of their children’s safe arrival.

The train pulled out of the station as Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione sat in a private compartment. Molly Weasley was loathe to put her two youngest on the train, but they begged and whinged until she finally gave in. Well, Ginny begged and whinged. Ron had to be convinced by his girlfriend, Hermione. The dynamics of the group had changed since they shared a kiss and finally acknowledged their feelings. Their romance burned fast and furiously at first, the result of years of pent up attraction. But now, months later, they bickered as much, if not more, than they used to and things they found endearing about each other were becoming annoying. Hermione sensed the end of the courtship was imminent, but neither wanted to be the first to put it to words. The four sat silently in the compartment, looking out the window. Ginny put her hand on top of Harry’s.

“I’m so glad you all decided to come back. I know it wasn’t an easy decision,” she said.

He smiled. “I wouldn’t be able to become an Auror without my N.E.W.T.s. It was either come back or choose a new career path,” he answered.

“Well, I for one am excited to be back,” Hermione offered. “I can’t wait to see Hogwarts back to its familiar self.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ron added. “It’ll be hard not to think about everyone who . . . it’ll be hard.”

Hermione rested her head on Ron’s shoulder. “I know,” she said quietly.

Harry smiled to himself. It was nice to see Ron and Hermione share a tender moment for a change. Their relationship seemed to be filled with more and more turmoil lately. In sharp contrast, Harry’s relationship with Ginny barely showed signs of life. They never fought, never wasted time arguing about stupid things. They didn’t spend much time talking at all. Not about anything important. Harry squeezed Ginny’s hand. She, in turn, leaned in and kissed him gently, but quickly. It was about as intimate as they had been the past several weeks.

The door opened suddenly, and Draco Malfoy started to walk in when he realized who was in there.

“Oh. Sorry. Wrong car,” he said and swiftly retreated.

“Oi, Malfoy! Wait!” Harry leapt to his feet unexpectedly and hurried after him.

Malfoy stopped in the narrow corridor and turned to face Harry.

“What is it, Potter?” The names Malfoy and Potter seemed to have lost their bite after the war.

“You never did answer my question,” Harry said.

“What question would that be?” Draco asked genuinely.

“The one I asked you in the Room of Requirement. Why didn’t you tell your aunt it was me? At the Manor. You could have ensured your family an honored place among the Death Eaters and gotten rid of me for good. Why didn’t you tell her?”

Draco blinked, as if he was surprised by Harry’s assessment, then finally answered, “Because it was the right thing to do.”

Malfoy slowly turned back and began walking in the direction of the car he was sharing with Pansy and Blaise. Harry was left pondering his answer. Perhaps Malfoy meant what he said. His heart had never truly been in the Dark Arts. Perhaps he had followed in his Snape’s footsteps rather than his own father’s. Harry waved off the questions the others had about his conversation with Draco. For some reason, we wanted to keep his exchange with Draco to himself.

When the train arrived at Hogsemeade Station, the students disembarked and made their way to the carriages. Hagrid was there to greet them, as usual.

“‘ello all” he grinned. “I wasn’t sure ‘ow many of you was comin’ back. Most of ya, by the look of it.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed. “The dormitories are going to be crowded.”

“You’ll be bunking with some of yer seventh years, I reckon,” Hagrid told her. “You know, we never had a class of Eighth Years. But I suppose yer not really Eighth Years, since they didn’t teach nothin’ worth learnin’ last year anyway.” Hagrid scratched his head. He was confusing himself even. “Well, I’m off to see to the first years.”

“Goodbye, Hagrid. We’ll stop and see you first chance we get,” Harry waved.

hdhdhd

As the students gathered in the Great Hall, Headmistress McGonagall called for the first years to stand at the front and wait to be sorted. Hermione sat down next to Ron, while Ginny and Harry sat across the table from them. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. It was odd to see Malfoy without Crabbe and Goyle at his side. Gregory had opted not to return to Hogwarts after Vincent died. Harry never realized how little like a bully Malfoy looked without his goons. He sat quietly waiting, like everyone else, for McGonagall to finish sorting the new students. Pansy sat to his right and Blaise across from him. There was something different about him. Harry supposed there was something different about all of them. Even Pansy, who had been eager throw Harry to the wolves, appeared to have lightened up a bit. She leaned close to Draco and whispered something in his ear, causing a bright smile to grace his face. Harry found himself smiling too. He looked away before Draco and Pansy saw that he was watching. Glancing around the hall, Harry noticed a lot of smiles, and his grew bigger.

“What’s with that goofy grin?” Ron asked.

“What? Oh, I was just realizing that this is the first time we’ve come here without evil looming over our lives.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed. “It will be nice to be able to really concentrate on our studies.”

Ron laughed. “I was thinking it would nice just to hang out and have some fun.”

“Studying can be fun,” Hermione said.

Ron, Harry and Ginny all rolled their eyes.

“Anyway, I have a feeling it’s going to be a great year,” Harry grinned.

hdhdhd

The feast had begun and Draco listened to Blaise and Pansy talk about their travels over the summer while he ate his chicken and potatoes. He had little to offer during their conversation. He had no exciting travels to speak about, just trials and inquiries and trips to healers attempting to remove his Dark Mark.

“So,” Pansy said with a gleam in her eye. “I haven’t told you what else happened this summer.”

She didn’t wait for them to ask.

“I discovered my mother’s journal from when she was a Hogwarts student.”

Blaise and Draco shared a look between them that clearly said they weren’t interested.

“Don’t be like that,” she nudged Draco. “It turns out our parents were quite the scamps.”

“How so?” Draco asked.

Pansy grinned at him. “It seems your parents began hosting a series of parties, by invitation only, of course. They called them wand parties.”

“What’s a wand party?” Blaise asked.

“Back in the seventies, muggles used to have what they called key parties. Parties in which the men would put their keys into a bowl. At the end of the party, the women would pick out a set of keys and go home with that man.”

Draco and Blaise both raised their eyebrows, surprised that muggles could have thought up such a provocative game. They leaned in closer to Pansy as she continued.

“Well, I don’t know who exactly in Slytherin came up with it, but the House held similar parties. But they used their wands instead of keys. And everyone put their wands in, not just the boys.”

“But then who picks?” Blaise asked.

“And what if you get another boy, or another girl, and that’s not what you’re into?”

Pansy shrugged. “I guess that’s the fun of it. Besides, you don’t have to have sex with the other person, just spend the night.”

Blaise huffed. “As if that’s not the whole point of the game. Of course you’re supposed to have sex.”

“Intriguing,” Draco mused. “Tell us more.”

“My mother hadn’t written down all the rules or the spells necessary, but she alluded to a book somewhere in the Slytherin common room that details it all. We just have to find it.”

“So, you’re seriously thinking we should start having these parties?” Blaise questioned.

“Absolutely,” Pansy replied. “We need some fun around here.” She jerked her head toward the rest of the Great Hall. “Some of them are in desperate need of loosening up.”

“What? You want to invite other Houses? Are you mental?” Blaise suggested. “We can’t have outsiders in our House. It simply isn’t done. Besides, you think any of those do-gooders from Gryffindork would possibly be interested?” he laughed.

Draco’s expression turned slightly dark. “They’ve had a tough time of it, Blaise. A lot tougher than you. You wouldn’t even be here right now if it weren’t for some of those dorks. So leave them alone.” Draco hadn’t meant to defend them so passionately, but the war was over thanks to many of them. And Draco, for one, was grateful.

Blaise was taken aback by Draco’s words for a moment and he sat speechless.

Breaking the awkward tension, Pansy spoke up, “Well, I wouldn’t mind getting a hold of one or two those Gryffindor do-gooders.”

“Really?” Draco questioned.

“I mean, who wouldn’t want the chance to shag Harry Potter?”

All three slowly directed their gaze at Harry, who was laughing at Ron making rude gestures with his chicken leg.

“Can you imagine how powerful he’d be in bed?” Pansy sighed. “I’ve never experienced it myself, but I’ve heard that the most powerful wizards give off magic during sex and it makes orgasms last minutes, instead of seconds.”

“That’s an old witch’s tale, Pans,” Draco scoffed. “Some horridly unattractive wizard probably made it up just to get shagged.”

He and Blaise laughed, while Pansy pouted.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind trying to find out,” she smirked. “I’ll bet he’s magic either way.”

Draco glanced over at Harry’s table once more.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to invite the other Houses. This year breaks so many traditions already,” Draco suggested. “But no one below seventh year.”

“Agreed,” Pansy grinned. “Hurry up and finish your supper so we can go find that book.”

After the meal, they rushed back to the common room to search for a book with hand-written details entitled Wand Game, on the last few pages. Little did they know it would take them two and a half weeks to find it. And another three to perfect the charms on the cauldron they would use to hold the wands.

hdhdhd

Since none of the Eighth Years wanted the responsibility, Ginny had been made Head Girl and she split off from the other Gryffindors to find her room. For similar reasons, Michael Corner, from Ravenclaw, was named Head Boy, and the two shared a space that included a common room, two separate bed chambers and a very large shared bath. Ginny was most excited to have a private room to which she could sneak Harry occasionally.

Harry and Ron ended up in the same room they had before, which, again they shared with Neville, Seamus and Dean Thomas. Though Hermione was happy for Ginny to make Head Girl, she was disappointed that they would not get to share a room, as the girls had gotten especially close recently. Consequently, she wound up in a room with Parvati, Lavender and two seventh year girls. Inwardly groaning, Hermione began to unpack her things. Sharing a room with a girl who had been hell bent on going after her man and one that still held a grudge about the Yule Ball was going to be trying to say the least. She could only hold out hope that they all had matured.


	2. the rules of engagement

October 4 1998

Several weeks into the school year, most had settled into a routine. Ron and Hermione’s routine appeared to consist of her chastising him for not studying hard enough, and him marching off in a huff to play wizards chess. It was a game he knew she abhorred. She would always turn to Ginny or Harry for a sympathetic ear. But they had their own problems.

“Harry,” Ginny shook him awake. “You fell asleep again.”

“What?” He seemed disoriented as he looked around her room. “Oh, sorry,” he offered sheepishly.

Ginny crossed her arms over her scantily clad chest. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“You’re _always_ tired,” she complained. “Am I not attractive?”

“You’re beautiful, Gin. Really, you are.” Harry averted his gaze from Ginny’s.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s me. I just . . . I don’t know,” he stammered. He truly didn’t know why his interest in Ginny had waned. He had seen Ron and Hermione’s relationship falter without the adventure and excitement that had brought them together in the first place. He thought perhaps the same thing was happening with him and Ginny.

Ginny picked at her nails, avoiding eye contact with Harry. “If you don’t want me anymore . . .” she swallowed, trying to wet her suddenly dry throat. “Maybe, we should . . .”

“Break up? Is that what you want?” Harry asked.

“Is that what _you_ want?”

He took Ginny’s chin in his hand and pulled it up until her eyes met his. “I do love you, Gin. But . . . I’ve been feeling . . . I don’t know, things seem different between us.”

“Like we’re just going through the motions? Because everyone expects us to stay together?”

“Is that how you feel, Gin?”

“I think the spark is gone.” She lowered her gaze.

Relieved that it wasn’t only him, Harry suggested they make it official.

“I guess it wouldn’t make sense for us to stay together, as a couple. You deserve someone who will make you happy. We should break up so you can find him.”

Even though she agreed, tears still came to Ginny’s eyes. She nodded her consent.

“But don’t dare think it’s because you’re not beautiful and wonderful. I’m telling you, it’s me, Gin. I just have some things to sort out.”

“Okay.”

They hugged and Harry left Ginny’s room to go back to Gryffindor house. 

_What the bloody hell is the matter with me?_ He thought. _Maybe it’s simply the stress of the war. It takes time to recover from things like that. Right?_ He asked of himself.

He didn’t have an answer.

hdhdhd

October 7 1998

Potions class was nearing the end, and Hermione had just about completed her Shrinking potion. One dash of leech juice and three stirs, and she would win the contest.

“Finished!” someone yelled from across the room.

Hermione spun around to see who had beaten her, most likely by less than a minute. It was Draco. 

She silently fumed, but finished her potion anyway, in case something had gone wrong with Draco’s.

“Perfect,” Professor Slughorn announced. “Well done Mr. Malfoy. You have won the first prize of the year–a box of assorted candies from Honeydukes.”

It wasn’t the candy Hermione was jealous of. Hermione had set a goal for herself to win the most challenges in Potions this year. And she was not off to the start she had hoped for.

“Fear not, class. There will be many more challenges throughout the year.” Slughorn winked at Hermione. “Clean up, now, class is almost over.”

“You came in a close second,” Ginny tried to cheer Hermione up.

“You don’t get anything for second place, Gin.”

“I would be happy,” she smiled. “I had trouble with this one. I guess I’m a little distracted.”

“Still down about you and Harry?”

“A bit. But I know it was the right thing to do.”

On the way out of the classroom, Hermione stopped to congratulate Draco. “Well done, Malfoy.”

He looked up as he put away the last of his equipment. “Uh, thank you.”

“But be warned, I’m going to step it up next time. I plan on winning the most challenges this year.”

“I look forward to the competition,” he smirked.

Hermione hurried to join her friends on their way to lunch.

“Were you congratulating Malfoy?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Yes. He _did_ win,” she explained.

“Yeah, but it’s Malfoy. Why would you go out of your way to be nice?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s not the enemy anymore, Ron. Grow up.”

He made a mocking face behind her back as they entered the Great Hall.

“Do you honestly think I don’t know what you’re doing, Ron?” Hermione plopped down at the table across from Ginny. Ron cautiously sat down next to her.

Harry wasn’t sure if he was still supposed to sit next to Ginny or not and he stood for a moment.

“Harry, sit. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course.” He slowly sat down. “This isn’t going to be strange for you two, is it?” he asked, noticing the worrisome expressions on Ron and Hermione’s faces.

“No,” Ginny answered for them. “They’re fine with it. Right?”

“Fine,” Ron said, trying to look like he meant it. But secretly, he was worried it would soon become the girls against the boys. He was sure Ginny would start complaining about Harry behind his back. He had no doubt Hermione was already complaining about him.

Pansy Parkinson abruptly appeared at their table, wearing a smile and a very low-cut blouse. The four Gryffindors all stared, wondering what she could possibly be doing there.

She placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. “We’re having a little get together in Slytherin Friday night.”

“And you’re telling us, why?” Hermione asked dismissively.

“Because we want you to come, silly.”

“Really. You want_ us_ to come to _your_ House for a party?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“Well, it’s not just any party.” Pansy glanced around and leaned farther over the table toward Harry, her cleavage at his eye level. He couldn’t not look. “I can’t tell you here,” she whispered. “I’ll come to your common room tonight. Say, half-eight? Gather up the seventh and eighth years.”

“Okay,” Ron said, his eyes drawn to Pansy’s blouse. Hermione hit his shoulder, hard.

Pansy waved her fingers and pranced back to the Slytherin table.

“Disgusting,” Ginny sneered. “Did you see the way she flirted with you right in front of me?”

“I’m not interested in Pansy,” Harry told her. “And we broke up.”

“That’s not the point. You’re not thinking of going to their party, are you?”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Ron chimed in. “I thought you said they weren’t our enemies anymore.”

Hermione snorted, “I didn’t say they were our friends, though.”

The four of them all looked over at the Slytherin table.

“It wouldn’t hurt to hear Pansy out,” Harry commented. “Maybe they could be our friends.”

Ginny scoffed, thinking Harry was still preoccupied with Pansy’s prominently displayed cleavage.

hdhdhd

After supper that evening, Pansy and Blaise snuck up to Gryffindor tower. Seventh and Eighth Year students gathered in the dormitory that Harry shared with the other eighth year boys.

Pansy held their attention as she explained the rules of the party game, after they all swore an oath to keep it secret from the professors and younger students.

“The concept is simple, you drop your wand into a charmed cauldron, pick a number out of another cauldron and have fun at our party. At the end of the festivities, we start choosing wands out of the cauldron. The person with the lowest number chooses first, and so on, until half the wands are chosen. You retrieve a wand from the cauldron, and the person that belongs to the wand you choose is yours for the next eight hours.”

“Why only half the wands?” Seamus asked.

Pansy rolled her eyes, along with several others. “Because everyone will be paired up by the time half the wands are chosen. There won’t be any need. For example, if you choose my wand, I’m yours for the night. You then Accio your own wand. Two wands are then spoken for. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Seamus smiled. “Mine for the night, to do what?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Whatever you please,” Pansy answered. “Though, there are rules. You must stay together for the entire eight hours, no farther than five feet apart. For the purposes of explaining all this, I’ll call the person who picks the wand the Chooser and the person who belongs to the wand, the Chosen. The chosen is obligated to the wishes of the Chooser, with some exceptions. The Chooser cannot make the Chosen hurt someone. Unless that person is the Chooser himself. I’m sure there are a few who enjoy a good spanking.”

Hermione blushed slightly when Ron lightly rubbed her bottom. Occasionally, she did enjoy a little slap.

Pansy continued. “The Chooser cannot force the Chosen to have intercourse. I’m sure there are more than a few virgins here in Gryffindor.” she sniggered. “If both parties consent, then by all means, have at it. But all other sexual favors are obligatory. The Chooser cannot force the Chosen to perform illegal acts. Immoral, yes, but not illegal.”

“What if we’re asked to do something we don’t want to? What if we refuse?” Parvati asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” Pansy smirked. “Because there _will_ be consequences for refusal. You’ll have eight hours to fulfill your obligation to your Chooser without repercussions. However, if you fail to please your Chooser, one of three possible punishments will befall you. The word ‘loser’ will break out in boils on your forehead, you will grow an ass’s ears and tail, or my personal favorite, you will feel an uncontrollable desire to--how shall I put this--release some sexual tension whenever you hear a certain trigger word.”

“Trigger word?” someone inquired.

“A word that sets you off. And you won’t know what the word is until it happens. It would be something like wand, potion or spell, for example,” Pansy grinned. “I came up with that one.”

“For how long?”

“One week,” Pansy answered. “And you may possibly lose the right to attend future wand parties. Any more questions?”

Ron raised his hand. “Can we come to the party without putting our wand in?”

“No, it’s all or nothing.”

A few students grumbled. Like Ron, they were curious about going to Slytherin House, but didn’t want to commit to spending time with someone they may not know or even dislike strongly.

“But what if we really can’t stand the person we’re paired with?”

“That’s a possibility,” Pansy nodded. “_But_, what if you’re paired with someone you have a secret crush on? It’s all about getting to know each other better. All four Houses, Seventh and Eighth Years will be invited.”

“What about Sixth Years?”

Pansy made a face. 

“The Sixth Years are a bit inexperienced,” Blaise interjected. “So, we thought we’d stick to the higher years.”

“Romilda’s not inexperienced,” Lavender snickered.

“Yeah,” Seamus agreed. “She’d be an excellent addition.”

Pansy and Blaise looked at each other, as if reading one another’s minds. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “All right. You may bring her. But make sure she understands the rules. I won’t be responsible if she gets in over her head.”

hdhdhd

“So, what do you think? Can we trust them?” Ron asked Harry.

“What? You’re not seriously thinking of going,” Hermione said, crossing her arms.

“I just want to see what a party at Slytherin is like.”

“But you can’t just go to the party, you have to participate in the game.”

Ron shrugged. “How bad could that be?”

“Ron!” Ginny scolded. “You’re willing to spend the night with another girl?” She saw the hurt on Hermione’s face.

“I might get Hermione’s wand. Maybe we can fix it so I do.”

“What if you can’t?” Harry asked. “I’m sure they planned it so it can’t be fixed.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna _do_ anything with another girl. Pansy said we only have to spend time together.”

“Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I went then,” Hermione sneered. “Even if I chose Nott? Or how about Malfoy?”

Ron scowled. Nott’s reputation was legendary and Ron’s distaste for Malfoy went without saying. “You wouldn’t.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Wouldn’t I?”

“I can’t believe you two are even considering it,” Ginny said shaking her head. “Why would you subject yourself to that?”

“You’re not going to go then, Gin?” Harry asked.

“Oh, _I’m_ going,” she replied. “But then again, I’m single.” She glared at Ron.

“Are you going Hermione?” Ron asked, his hands on his hips.

“If you go, I go,” she answered.

“Fine, then I won’t go,” he pouted.

“Fine. Me neither.”

And it was settled. At least it appeared that way. Ginny couldn’t help but be a little hurt that Harry wanted to go. It was a thinly veiled excuse to shag someone otherwise unattainable. Or perhaps a push in the right direction for the painfully shy. Ginny wasn’t ashamed to admit to herself that she was going to relieve her own sexual frustration. Of course, she told her brother, it was merely curiosity -- she’d never been inside Slytherin House.

Pansy and Blaise traveled to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to give the same address to those students. All in all, interest was mixed and many of the students were skeptical of the Slytherins. For the following two days, it was all the older students at Hogwarts talked about. By the time Friday rolled around, the anticipation was a distraction in all their classes. Girls giggled, discussing which boy’s wand they were hoping to choose. And whose they definitely did not want. Of course, most of the girls were hoping for a chance at Harry, now that he and Ginny had broken up. Low on the list, were Justin Finch-Fletchley and Michael Corner. But lowest were Blaise and Harper, who many suspected were homosexual. Few of the girls seemed to relish the idea of sharing their man with other men.

On the other hand, the boys, the straight ones at least, weren’t finicky. Most were wishing for someone easy, such as Pansy or one of the Greengrass girls. But they were willing to take anyone.

One thing they all agreed on, the evening held a lot of promise--for both pleasure and pain.


	3. great expectations

October 9 1998

Friday night, beginning at nine-forty, pupils from the other three Houses began covertly streaming into Slytherin House. The lower year students were bribed into staying out of the common room during the two hours of party time.

At approximately nine forty-five, after everyone from Gryffindor who was going, was gone, Hermione sat in her room alone. For once, her mind wasn’t on the book in front of her. It was many floors below her, in the dungeons.

Ron had made plans to help Anthony Goldstein work on their Defense Against the Dark Arts project. And the pair headed for the library earlier that evening. Hermione, unable to concentrate on her own studies, decided to steal Ron away from Anthony for some much needed one on one time.

As she neared the library, Hermione heard whispering voices and ducked into an alcove.

“Would you quit being such a wanker. We’re just going to take a peek.”

“What if we get caught?”

Ron shrugged. “I guess they kick us out.”

Hermione stood silently fuming as the boys walked past her. She had actually started to feel sorry for Ron, having to do schoolwork on a Friday night. Now she was ready to throttle him. She tiptoed behind them, staying in the shadows, all the way to the dungeons. Pansy was standing in front of the Slytherin passageway allowing students to pass through. She grinned when she saw Ron.

“I’m surprised Granger let you come,” she smirked.

“Hermione doesn’t _let_ me do anything,” Ron replied. “I do what I want to do.”

“Is that why we’re sneaking around, and you lied to Hermione?”

Ron jabbed Anthony in the ribs. “I didn’t lie. We were working in the library.”

“Are you coming in or not?” Pansy asked. “It’s almost time to start.”

Ron and Anthony craned their necks to try and see around Pansy.

“Looks like a good crowd,” Anthony commented. He spotted Romilda Vane. “I thought you said no sixth years.”

“Only Astoria and Romilda made the cut,” Pansy told him.

“Astoria’s in there? I’m in.” Anthony pushed past Ron and went inside.

“What about you, Weasley?” Pansy smirked. “Unless you’re afraid you’ll get in trouble,” she teased.

“I’m not afraid.” Ron glared, then walked past her into the common room.

Pansy looked around to see if anyone else was coming. It was two minutes before ten. She decided no one else was going to show up and started to walk inside.

“Wait,” a voice called.

Pansy turned around to see Hermione, not particularly dressed for a party.

“Well, you’re the last person I expected to see here. Scratch that, Weasley was the last person I expected.”

“I saw him go inside,” Hermione said. “I can’t believe he went in there.” She frowned.

“Don’t get mad, get even,” Pansy suggested. “Besides, I think we need one more to even it up.” 

Hermione stood, considering it.

“Hurry up. It’s time.” Pansy jerked her head toward the party. “Come on already.”

Hesitantly, Hermione stepped in and the passageway closed behind her.

Ron swallowed, hard. “Mione. What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same thing.”

“I, uh . . . I just wanted to take a peek, but then, Anthony went in . . . and I didn’t want to be the only one left out . . .”

“But you were going to leave me out,” Hermione hissed.

“No.” Ron looked down. He knew he was wrong. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“You probably will be,” Hermione said under her breath.

Pansy called for quiet. “Has everyone placed their wand in the cauldron? Anybody not done so yet?”

Ron and Hermione stepped forward. Pansy smirked as each of them deposited their wands. She gestured for them to select a slip of parchment from the other pot. Hermione reached in first and glanced at her number. Ron followed suit. Twenty-six in all, ended up dropping their wands into the cauldron, and choosing a slip of parchment with a number on it.

“What did you get?” he asked her.

“You’ll find out at the end of the party,” she said coldly. “I’m going to go mingle.” She turned on her heel and marched to the tub of cooling butter beers, grabbed one and joined a group of boys on the other side of the room.

“What are you doing here, Ron?” Harry appeared next to him. “I thought you two decided not to come.”

“I sort of accidentally came in. And she saw me and followed.”

“How do you accidentally show up to a party?” Harry laughed.

“Well, I’m here now. I may as well enjoy myself.” Ron picked up a butter beer and took a big swig. He noticed Harry looking at him with concern. “What?”

“You and Mione aren’t doing so well. This isn’t going to help.”

“I know,” Ron agreed. “But maybe this will tell us if we really want to be together or not.”

“How do you figure?”

Ron sighed. “I figure if we hook up with other people and regret it, maybe we’ll realize how much we belong together. If not, we might find new partners. Either way, Harry, we can’t go on just fighting all the time.”

Harry held up his bottle to clink with Ron’s. “Good luck, mate.”

Ron looked around for Hermione and saw that Ginny had now joined her group. It was going to be a long night.

Party goers drank and listened to music and socialized. The closer the hour of midnight drew, the more the tension grew. Nervous glances around the room gave away the apprehension most of the students were feeling.

Blaise shut down the music at exactly midnight and didn’t waste any time gathering the crowd.

“It’s time to start. Who’s got number one?” he asked.

No one stepped forward at first.

“Come on. Don’t be shy,” Blaise grinned. “It’s the best pick. The most to choose from.”

Finally, Lavender walked toward the cauldron. She handed Blaise her parchment, held her breath, closed her eyes and reached in. She pulled out a rather plain wand with a knobby end. Hermione gasped.

“Whose wand is this?” Blaise questioned.

Ron raised his hand. “Mine,” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Mine,” he said with a bit more authority. A huge smile broke out on Lavender’s face. A scowl formed on Hermione’s.

“Accio wand,” Lavender said, and her wand levitated out of the cauldron. She walked to Ron and handed him his wand, then linked her arm through his.

Blaise didn’t miss a beat and called for the next number. Justin Finch-Fletchley eagerly stepped forward. He drew Millicent Bulstrode’s wand, and neither looked particularly pleased. The wand choosing went quickly after that. Padma drew Theo’s wand, Michael Corner drew Parvati’s, and Dean drew Romilda’s. All of them appeared anxious, but not altogether displeased with their choices. However, when Anthony withdrew Ernie MacMillan’s wand, Ernie protested, to say the least.

“Wait a minute. That’s not fair. I’ll not be paired up with another bloke,” Ernie complained.

“You were never promised a girl,” Pansy reminded him.

“But it was implied.”

“Never,” she said calmly. “You were promised a partner for the evening. It had to be fair for everyone. Not everyone here at Hogwarts is heterosexual, you know.” Pansy grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I know of at least two Slytherin, and one Ravenclaw that are gay. And one Gryff I highly suspect. There’s a known Hufflepuff lesbian. And one Ravenclaw and one Gryff that I suspect are also lesbians. Not to mention a Slytherin bi. It wouldn’t be fair to them if they were guaranteed a partner of the opposite sex.”

“But I’m not gay. I don’t want to be Anthony’s partner.”

This time Anthony protested. “I’m not gay either.”

“Well, then, you see? It all works out. Next number,” Pansy called out. “Besides, its’ too late now. Your wands are bound.”

Ernie glared at her. “You should have told us we might get another bloke.”

Pansy ignored him and called again for the next number.

It was Hermione’s turn to choose. She got Daphne Greengrass’ wand. Most of the remaining boys grumbled. Many of them were hoping for a chance at who they thought was the prettiest girl in school. Hermione shrugged. Unlike Ron, she was certain she would be able to stay faithful.

Daphne’s sister, another coveted female, was spoken for when a known homosexual boy, Harper, pulled her wand. More grumbles from the boys.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ernie cursed. “What a fucking waste.”

“I have the next number,” Luna spoke up. She reached into the cauldron, capturing Seamus’ wand, which he seemed quite pleased about. She stood next to him. “We’re going to have fun tonight,” she told him.

Neville paled a bit when Pansy chose his wand. And Ginny looked disappointed to be paired with Blaise, especially because he was the Chooser. She had a feeling she would be suffering the consequences for the following week.

Draco’s turn came and he withdrew a wand, frowning. “This is my wand,” he said.

“Then you have to put it back,” Pansy told him.

Harry’s mouth suddenly went dry as he tried to speak. “Actually, that’s my wand. Or at least the one I’ve been using. I almost forgot it used to be yours.”

“It still is,” Draco said sternly.

“Not technically. I disarmed you.”

“Sorry Dra,” Pansy said. “He’s right. If he put the wand in, it’s his. And he’s your partner for the night.” She was unable to stifle a giggle.

“Not funny, Pans,” he glowered at her.

That left only one more pair, Tracey Davis and Susan Bones. All of the guest had been paired up. Some to their delight, others to their irritation. Couples began dispersing in search of more private quarters. With a few exceptions. 

“Well, this is awkward,” Hermione laughed nervously as she stood next to Daphne. The four same-sex couples looked to see what the others would do first. 

“I’m not staying,” Ernie groused. He started to walk out but when he got more than five feet away from Anthony, he began to feel nauseous. Anthony did as well. The feeling only subsided when they moved closer together. 

“Fuckin’ hell, don’t do that again,” Anthony scolded. “Let’s go to the kitchens and see if we can get something to eat. We got nothin’ better to do.”

“Yeah, all right,” Ernie agreed. They left, walking about as far apart as they could manage without repercussions.

Tracey eyed up Susan. “I’m _not_ doing anything with you, lesbot. So just forget about it.”

Susan blushed brightly. “You’re not my type anyway.”

“What type is that?”

“Nice.”

“Fine,” Tracey huffed. “Then let’s follow the boys to the kitchens. I’m hungry too.”

“Come on Granger,” Daphne smiled. “I’ve been dying to get at that hair for years. We’re going to fix you up.”

“Uh,” Hermione started to protest, but Daphne grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the girl’s dormitory.

Harry saw Ginny follow Blaise into the boy’s dormitory as the last few couples left the common room.

“Is Ginny safe with Blaise?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean, safe?”

“I mean, is he going to . . .”

Draco laughed. It was probably the first time Harry heard him laugh without it being at Harry’s expense. “Yes. She’s plenty safe. You know the homosexuals Pansy was talking about? He’s one of them.”

“Oh,” Harry nodded.

“You seem relieved,” Draco pointed out. “Are you sorry you broke up with her?”

“What?”

“I was just asking if--”

“I know what you said. It’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?”

Draco thought a minute. “If you answer my question, I’ll answer one of yours.”

The deal was intriguing. “Any question?”

“Sure, why not. But you have to answer honestly.”

Harry glanced at the chess set on a small table in the corner. “Do you play?” Draco nodded. “Why don’t we play a game to pass the time, and I’ll answer your question,” Harry suggested.

“I’ve got some firewhiskey, if you’re interested,” Draco smirked, thinking Harry would pass. He took the Gryffindor for a light weight.

“Great,” Harry smiled. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

They sat down and set up their pieces. Draco poured a shot of firewhiskey each and pushed Harry’s across the table toward him.

“Bottoms up,” Draco said, wiggling his eyebrows.

They both downed their drinks. Draco made his opening move and waited for Harry to either move a piece or answer his question.

Lost in thought, Harry scanned the chessboard for a long moment before moving a pawn.

“No. I don’t think I’m sorry we broke up,” Harry finally answered.

“You don’t_ think_?”

“I mean, no, I’m not sorry. Things just weren’t working. What’s the point if it’s not fun, right?”

“Is that all the answer I’m going to get?” Draco asked as he moved another piece.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything more to say about it. I don’t know why it wasn’t working. It just wasn’t.” He paused before asking his question. As he moved one of his knights, he casually, and without looking at Draco asked quietly, “Were you afraid of him?” He knew he didn’t have to elaborate. Draco would know exactly which ‘him’ Harry meant.

Draco visibly tensed. He looked at Harry, who met his gaze, and gave a one word answer, “Terrified.”

In actuality, Harry was expecting some sort of false bravado. An answer to bolster Draco’s image. What he got was unexpected honesty. The look in Draco’s eyes was one of fear, and he didn’t try to hide it.

“I suppose I don’t have to ask you the same question.” Draco broke the silent tension. “The fearless Harry Potter. You were born to defeat him.” Draco intercepted Harry’s knight and took it.

“I was afraid all the time,” Harry corrected him. “And I wasn’t _born_ to defeat him. I was made to, inadvertently by him. It was luck, most of it. And a lot of help from a lot of good people--”

“I’m sorry,” Draco interrupted Harry’s tirade. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was . . . it was a stupid joke.”

Harry roughly picked up a bishop and began to place it to check Draco’s King.

“You don’t want to do that,” Draco said before Harry let go of the piece.

“Why not? I’ll have your king in check.”

“Because I’ll take it with my queen in two moves and you’ll be in checkmate.”

Harry looked at the board. “Oh.” He retracted his piece and mulled over his next move. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Draco grinned. “It’s not your turn to ask a question. I can ask you another, so you can ask that one, if you’d like.”

“All right.”

“Did you really live under the stairs at your aunt and uncle’s house before you came to Hogwarts?” Draco chuckled quietly. “Or is that just a rumor?”

Harry laughed. That was not a question he expected. “Yes, it’s true. Once I discovered I was a wizard they started letting me live in the spare bedroom.”

“They had a spare bedroom the whole time, but made you live under the stairs?” Draco was in disbelief. “But they were family.”

“I was a freak to them. They knew about me, even though I didn’t. I was as much a freak in the muggle world as I was here.”

Harry made a move that wasn’t as bad as his previous one, but Draco easily won the game in the next several moves. Draco poured another shot for each of them.

“I never was that good at chess,” Harry confessed. “Ron beats me all the time.”

“Weasley? Hmm.” Draco drank his shot quickly. “You have to think several moves ahead, anticipate what the other person is going to do.”

Laughing, Harry told him, “I’m more of an ‘act now, ask questions later’ type of bloke. I would have been lost without Hermione.” He began putting the pieces of the game away. “So, why _are_ you being so nice to me?”

“Would you rather I insult you?” Draco smirked.

“No, of course not. But it is a bit disconcerting,” Harry snickered.

“Potter, you and I have been at odds since the day we met. And it didn’t get either one of us anywhere. You certainly don’t have to be my friend, but I don’t want to have enemies anymore.”

“Friend? You think we could be friends?” Harry asked, his tone not quite how he meant it. He was simply surprised.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it.”

“And you’re already picking a fight,” Draco sighed heavily. “Forget I said that. I just don’t want to fight with anyone anymore.” He glanced at the clock on the mantle. “It’s late. I’m tired and I’m going to sleep.”

He sat down on one end of the couch in front of the fireplace. Harry swiftly followed to avoid the nauseous feeling Ernie and Anthony experienced earlier. After all the butter beer and firewhiskey shots, Harry’s stomach was already churning a bit. He took a seat at the other end of the couch, perhaps three feet away.

Draco leaned his head back on the green and black leather sofa and closed his eyes. It wasn’t Potter’s fault. Draco said more than he wanted to, and Potter wasn’t one to let things go easily. The moment was gone. They had been getting on like any other students would have until Draco felt vulnerable and had his little outburst. Why couldn’t he have just admitted that he would like for them to be friends? He could feel that Harry was watching him, but he pretended to fall asleep. In a few hours, the charm would wear off and they could go their separate ways again.

Harry sat watching Draco for a little while, thinking he would say something else. When he didn’t, Harry closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep at the other end of the couch. The Slytherin couches weren’t as comfortable as the Gryffindor ones. And Harry couldn’t stop thinking about what Draco said. Did he really want to be friends with Harry? Harry certainly didn’t think they were enemies anymore. It was a bit like deja vu, like the first time they met. Harry had turned down Draco’s offer of friendship back then, with good reason. But now, things had changed so much. Malfoy had changed. Harry thought it probably took a lot for Draco to even bring it up. And it looked like Harry went and shot him down again. Harry decided to bring it up tomorrow, if Malfoy was still speaking to him, that is.

hdhdhd

“Okay, darlin’. What do you have in mind?” Seamus asked Luna, wriggling his eyebrows.

“I thought we might sneak off into the forest,” she answered, smiling sweetly.

Seamus took her innocent act as just that, an act. “Why? There are plenty of places we can go to be alone inside the castle.”

“But there aren’t any blibbering humdingers inside the castle. We have to look in the forest for them.”

“Eh? Blibbering what?”

“Humdingers. Haven’t you heard of them?” Luna questioned. “Come on,” she said, taking Seamus’ hand. “I told you we would have fun tonight.”

“That’s not exactly the kind of fun I had in mind, darlin’. What do you say we skip the forest and go to my room?”

“And what ever would we do there?” Luna smirked. She batted her eyelashes and gave her best impression of an innocent doe.

“Aw, never mind,” Seamus grumbled. “Let’s just go to the fuckin’ forest.”

“Oh, good,” Luna squealed and dragged Seamus up to the main floor of the castle and the pair snuck out of the castle.

At that moment, Seamus was thinking even Ernie had gotten a better choice than him. At least _he_ was getting a snack.

hdhdhd

Justin Finch-Fletchley sat on the window seat in the Hufflepuff common room with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen?” he asked Millicent.

“I thought I would get somebody less . . . Hufflepuff,” she retorted.

“Come on,” he begged. “I’m not asking for much. Have a few more drinks and pretend I’m someone else.”

“It would take more than a few drinks, let me tell you,” She sneered. “I’m not touching you.” 

“Okay, then, let me touch you.”

“No fucking way.”

“Give me a break here,” he said in frustration. “How about showing me a little something?”

Millicent crossed her arms over her breasts. “Sorry, you’re out of luck. Better come up with another plan.”

Sighing heavily, Justin sat watching Millicent as she leafed through a book she found on a small table. She sat down on the other side of the window seat. It was about as far away from him as she could get without getting that nauseous feeling. Although, sitting near him made her a bit nauseous as well. It wasn’t so much that he was unattractive, but he was a Hufflepuff for Merlin’s sake. She wouldn’t even consider it.

Even though Millicent wasn’t the prettiest girl and she certainly wasn’t small, Justin was disappointed with the way the evening had progressed. He had been looking forward to it and hoped it would help him in breaking the ice with the ladies. He knew he was regarded as somewhat geeky, but he just needed someone to give him a chance.

He watched Millicent as she ignored him. His hand stealthily made its way to the front of his trousers, behind the leg he had propped up to block her view. He had been randy ever since the wands had been chosen. The curly haired boy wondered if he would be able to slyly wank while she sat so near him. And if she did catch him, well, it would be her own fault for not wanking him when he asked her to.

Biting his bottom lip, Justin began to rub slow circles over his trouser covered penis. It didn’t take long for him to harden and become uncomfortable within the confines of those trousers. He carefully and gradually unzipped the fly part way, hoping Millicent didn’t hear the quiet but distinct sound. He kept his eyes on Millicent’s face as he reached inside his pants and wrapped his fingers around his cock. He never realized how difficult it was not to make any sounds while masturbating. He was also now realizing that his roommates most likely knew whenever he was doing it.

The small movements he was able to make weren’t going to get him off. Not anytime soon. He tried shifting without revealing himself, but Millicent glanced up at him from her book.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” he grunted.

“Then stop fidgeting.”

She continued to look at him, still annoyed that she got partnered with him. He was trying to wait for her to begin reading again, but she kept glaring at him. Finch-Fletchley didn’t know how much more he was supposed to take.

“Sod it all,” he groaned, and switched positions, exposing himself to her.

Millicent let out a screech. “Eeeww. What are you doing?”

“If you can’t tell, maybe I don’t want you to jerk me after all,” Justin muttered.

“I know _what_ you’re doing. I just can’t believe you’re doing it in front me.”

“I wanted to do it _with_ you.” He couldn’t take it anymore and began rubbing himself. “Don’t look if you don’t like it. But I’m so fucking horny, I have to.”

He leaned back against the window frame and fully unzipped his trousers. Taking his hardened cock all the way out, he groaned loudly, now that he didn’t care. He swiftly massaged himself, closing his eyes and panting in short breaths.

Gasping sharply, Millicent turned her body away from him and reopened the book. She would never have admitted it but hearing him moan and grunt as he pleasured himself, made her feel a bit randy herself. Several times, she peered over her shoulder to watch. He was well enough endowed to make her rethink her earlier assessment of the Hufflepuff. However, his current behavior was a deal breaker. Of course, it didn’t prevent her from taking peeks.

The moans grew into fevered pants, signaling the nearing of his climax. Millicent couldn’t help turning in her seat to watch. Justin had his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

“Oh, yeah,” he sighed, just before a large gob of cum leapt onto his shirt, followed by two smaller ones. “Mm.”

Millicent had never actually witnessed a boy cumming, though she’d had sex a couple of times. She was startled by the sudden spurt as well as turned on.

Finch-Fletchley smirked at the Slytherin girl. “Did you enjoy that? ‘Cause I sure did.”

“No, I didn’t enjoy it,” she lied. “You’re disgusting.”

Still clutching his wand in his other hand, he pointed it at the mess. “Scourgify.” He stuffed himself back into his pants and zipped up his trousers. “Well, thanks for nothing,” he said. “I’m going to sleep.”

Justin leaned over toward his side and closed his eyes. Millicent, still somewhat shocked by his display, huffed and slammed the book shut before leaning back against the window frame. She was partly dismayed by the fact that she actually did enjoy watching. The last thing she remembered thinking before falling asleep was which punishment she would face in the morning.

hdhdhd

Parvati sat with her hands in her lap, awkwardly looking around the Gryffindor common room. Anywhere but at Michael. He was doing just the same. 

The pair _had_ been sitting in front of the fire earlier, talking pleasantly and continuing to drink butter beer for the past hour. Being from different Houses, they knew little about one another and so they chatted about superficial things. Michael was a rather shy boy and hadn’t made any moves on the Gryffindor girl, though her thought her quite pretty. He had just started to stretch his arms above his head in a contrived move to put an arm around her, when they heard the banging. He quickly withdrew his arm and glanced around for the source. No one else was in the common room at the time, however, both the boy’s and girl’s Seventh and Eighth Year dormitories were occupied by wand party couples.

“Did you hear that?” Parvati asked.

Michael nodded. “It sounded like it was coming from up there.” He pointed toward the stairs leading to the boy’s dormitory.

The couple heard a new noise and decided to investigate. Parvati and Michael got up and walked toward the boy’s stairs. A squeaking sound became louder.

“It’s definitely coming from there,” Michael said. He began to ascend the steps with Parvati following closely behind, as she had no choice because of the game rules.

The squeaking and light banging noises were getting louder, the further up the stairs the pair got.

Parvati’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized what they were listening to. “We should go back,” she whispered and tugged on Michael’s arm.

“Wait,” he frowned, still having not figured it out.

Parvati wondered just how naive Michael was.

He finally figured it out when he heard the muffled voices.

“Oh, yes. Harder.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

The banging of a bed frame against the wall became louder. And now, right outside the Seventh and Eighth Year room, grunts and moans could be clearly distinguished.

“Faster. Move your fingers faster.”

“God, you’re so much tighter than I thought you’d be. I’m gonna cum soon.”

Michael and Parvati froze in embarrassment at hearing Dean and Romilda shagging rather vocally.

“No, don’t slow down. I’m almost there.”

Like deer in headlights, neither Parvati nor Michael made a move to leave, though neither really wanted to be where they were. The thumping of the headboard sped up.

“Oh, yes! Dean, I’m cumming. Aah.” Romilda whimpered and panted, just seconds before Dean made a bit of noise of his own.

The commotion subsided, and the thumping ceased. Parvati and Michael both blushed furiously, but neither saw, as they were both too embarrassed to look at the other. Michael was fervently praying Parvati wouldn’t notice the rather obvious bulge in his trousers. He needn’t have worried, she was too busy trying to cross her arms over her overly excited nipples. After several minutes of quiet, Parvati finally spoke.

“Well, I suppose we should go back to the common room.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, all right.” He let her lead the way, so she wouldn’t notice him adjusting himself within his trousers. They sat back on the couch, Parvati with her hands nervously placed on her lap, awkwardly looking around the Gryffindor common room. Anywhere but at Michael. He did the same. The pair didn’t speak about what they heard or about anything else until Michael suggested they go to sleep, leaving both of them frustrated, but too timid to do anything about it.

hdhdhd

October 10 1998

Harry awoke with a start. He’d been having a disturbing dream, which he often did since the war. He slowly opened his eyes to find Draco’s face mere inches from his own. It took a few moments for him to realize where he was and why. Lying still so as not to wake Draco, he looked at him. Really looked at him. Harry had never had the opportunity to observe Draco so closely while he was so relaxed. The crease in Draco’s forehead was gone, as well as the line between his brows. He was peacefully dreaming, eyes hidden behind closed lids. His lashes were surprisingly thick, not quite as light as the hair on his head, but unnoticeable from a distance. Draco’s nose had changed over the years. Less prominent, it suited his face better and was no longer what Harry would describe as pointy. His lips . . . his lips were a pale rosebud pink, curvier than most and surrounded by very light stubble due to lack of a morning shave. He really was quite handsome. Not that Harry thought of such things. His gaze lingered on Draco’s mouth, then traveled back up his face. When it reached Draco’s eyes, they were staring back at Harry. Grey and intense. Harry froze, wondering how long Draco had been watching him watch Draco. They stared silently for what seemed like hours but was only a matter of seconds. Harry could have sworn he saw Draco’s chin tilt, almost imperceptibly when suddenly, a shower of sparks flew from their wands, distracting them. Turning away, Harry looked at the mantle clock. It read eight o’clock.

“I guess it’s done then,” he said. Harry awkwardly stood, picked up his wand and glasses and headed for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

After Harry left, Draco leaned his head back on the couch.

_What the fuck was that? Am I out of my mind? I was this close to kissing Harry fucking Potter._

Draco rubbed his forehead. He was in even deeper than he thought.

hdhdhd

Though he left Slytherin House calmly, Harry was a mass of confusion. Halfway up to Gryffindor Tower, he leaned against a pillar to pull himself together.

_ Was he going to kiss me? Was I fucking going to let him? What is wrong with me?_

Harry told himself it was only his imagination. Too much booze, not enough sleep. Those things, coupled with the spell, could have easily made Harry misinterpret what happened. Or almost happened. No, it definitely was not going to happen. At least, that’s what Harry told himself.


	4. consequences

October 10 1998

At ten minutes after eight in the morning, Hermione emerged from the Eighth Year Slytherin girl’s dormitory. She looked more like she was ready to go for a night on the town than just waking up. True to her word, Daphne had made up Hermione in her own image. Hermione’s hair was swept up with smooth, cascading curls down her back. She also wore make-up, which normally she did not. Daphne had put perhaps a bit too much on, but Hermione felt feminine and pretty. And she still looked lovely even after sleeping in it a few hours. She and Daphne talked a good part of the night away. Neither really knew much about the other, but they ended up gossiping mostly about the boys. Hermione hadn’t much opportunity to do that, her two best friends being boys themselves. And Ginny was so obsessed with Harry from a young age that she didn’t ever want to talk about any other boys.

Hermione happily drifted into Gryffindor as Ron was leaving the girls dormitory with Lavender firmly gripping his hand.

Both Ron and Hermione stopped where they were and regarded one another. She knew by the guilty look on his face that Lavender took full advantage of her rights according to the game. Lavender smirked at Hermione and squeezed Ron’s hand more tightly.

“It’s after eight, Lav. I’m not yours anymore.” He wrestled his hand away and took a step toward Hermione. “You look beautiful.”

“Maybe if you had told me that before last night, I would have cared,” she said sadly.

The last place she wanted to go was into her room, where Ron had spent the night with Lavender. But she needed to get her things so she could shower. Walking past Ron, she didn’t even glance at him.

Rubbing his head with a towel, Harry walked in, just as Hermione left.

“It seems a bit cold in here,” he commented.

“She saw me with Lav.” Ron bit his lip. “Harry, I made a huge mistake going to that party. Now Hermione won’t even look at me. And I’ve done things with Lavender that I should never have done with another girl.” He plopped himself down on the couch. “What am I gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Give her some space,” Harry suggested. “She has every right to be angry with you.”

Ron shrugged. “I know. I’m such an arse.” Ron sighed. “So, how was your night?” he chuckled.

“Weird.” Harry threw the towel on the back of a chair and quickly ran his fingers through his hair to comb it.

Seamus came into the common room, along with Neville.

“Oi, Harry. How was your date with Malfoy?” Seamus laughed. “I hear he gives great head,” he teased.

“It wasn’t a date, any more than Hermione had with Daphne. We played _chess_, for your information.”

“Is that the story you’re stickin’ with?” Seamus grinned and went off to his room.

“Don’t pay Finnigan any mind Harry. He just likes to stir up trouble,” Ron told him.

“You all right Neville?” Harry asked.

Neville sat down on the couch next to Ron blankly. “I think I’m in love.”

“What?”

“Or at least lust.” Neville blushed.

“I take it you had a good time with Pansy,” Harry said.

“Oh, yeah,” Neville nodded. “She’s . . . insatiable.” He blushed again.

“Did you, shag her?” Ron’s eyes widened.

“Twice.” Neville seemed to be in a daydream. “I’ve never shagged anyone before.” He looked at Ron, then Harry. “I guess I didn’t need to advertise that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Neville,” Harry assured him. “I’m sure most of the students here haven’t. Are you sorry it was with Pansy though? I mean, wouldn’t you rather it be with someone you love?”

“No. She taught me everything. I had no idea what I was doing.” Neville paused. “I guess I shouldn’t have told that either.”

Ron snickered. “I bet the next girl you shag is gonna be glad Pansy was your first, then.” He nudged Neville’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Neville agreed. “You’re right. Now I have to find a girl who wants me.” 

“You’re a hero. Of course you can find a girl. Just don’t be shy,” Harry told him. Neville still appeared to be in shock as he walked to their dormitory. To Ron, Harry asked, “Are you going down to breakfast?”

“I have to shower.” He lowered his voice. “I smell like Lavender.”

Harry put his hand up. “More than I needed to know. I’ve just showered. I’ll wait for you.”

Alone in the common room, Harry slouched down on the couch and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t sleep well the night before. He heard Romilda and Parvati talking as they walked in from their escapades. Parvati was complaining about Michael. Probably one of the few girls that complained about not going far enough. Romilda said something about Ginny, but he didn’t catch what it was.

A moment later, a throat clearing itself urged Harry to open his eyes. Draco stood before him, freshly showered and impeccably dressed, as usual.

“Um, the girls let me in,” he said, referring to Parvati and Romilda.

Harry straightened himself up. He couldn’t recall Draco ever paying a visit to Gryffindor. Still embarrassed for watching Draco sleep, Harry avoided eye contact.

“I was wondering,” Draco began. “I’d like a favor. Actually, it shouldn’t be a favor.” He was tripping over his words uncharacteristically. He cleared his throat again. “I’d like my wand back, please.”

“But that would leave me without one.”

“The one you’re using belongs to me. It chose me. It’s _my_ wand.”

“Then what am I supposed to use?” Harry asked. He knew Draco was right. He meant to give the wand back, but he never got around to getting his own before school started.

“McGonagall has many of the wands that were left by . . . um, those that didn’t make it through the war,” Draco told Harry. “I don’t suppose you’d want a Death Eater’s wand, but there may be something usable. At least temporarily.”

Harry didn’t like the idea of yet again using someone else’s wand, but he would have to wait for a trip to Diagon Alley to buy one of his own. Reluctantly, he pulled the wand out of his trouser pocket and handed it to Draco. Clearly, Draco was glad to have it returned. He closed his eyes and Harry could practically see the wand re-bond with him. The look on Draco’s face was almost erotic.

Opening his eyes, Draco thanked Harry. “I’d offer you my mother’s, but I’m going to return it to her. I’m sure you understand.” He turned to leave.

“Malfoy, wait.” Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. But he wanted to say something. He felt as though the pair had made progress toward peaceful coexistence, if not friendship. He also felt as though he may have ruined it already.

Draco raised his eyebrows and waited. “Well, are you going to say anything?”

“Uh, I just wanted to . . . what I said last night . . . I didn’t mean I don’t think we can be friends. I was only surprised that you said it.”

“I was drunk.”

“You weren’t even close to drunk.”

“I had three shots. And that was after the butter beer at the party.”

“I had just as much as you. I wasn’t drunk.”

“See? That right there is why I told you to forget I said anything about us being friends. You can’t help arguing with me about _everything_.”

Harry laughed. “I was only saying the truth. Can your friends not have their own opinions?”

“Of course they can.” Draco was indignant.

“As long as they agree with you,” Harry smiled. He knew he was getting under Draco’s skin. It was fun.

“You’re only continuing to prove my point, you know. You’re exasperating,” Draco told him. He tried to suppress a smile as he realized Harry was doing it on purpose. The mood had lightened slightly.

“Come for another game of _chess_, Malfoy?” Seamus sniggered as he walked through the common room, gesturing air quotes as he said the word chess, bringing the mood right back down.

“Shut up, Seamus,” Harry glared.

“Ooh, did I hit a nerve?”

“No, but I’ll hit _something_ if you don’t knock it off, Finnigan.” Ron’s voice carried across the room.

“Why are you defending him?” Seamus questioned, pointing to Malfoy.

“The war is over dimwit,” Ron said. “You always were a couple of steps behind.”

Seamus made a face at Ron and left for breakfast. Ron had grown into a strapping young man and Seamus was no match for him.

“On that note, I’ll be going as well,” Draco said. “Thanks Potter.” He glanced happily at his wand and headed out of Gryffindor house.

Harry had to admit he was disappointed. It was much more fun goading Malfoy now that he was relatively certain he wouldn’t get hexed for it. He never realized that the Slytherin had much of a sense of humor. But the small grin on Draco’s lips told Harry that he knew the brunette was only playing.

“What an arse. Fucking Seamus,” Ron shook his head. “As if. Even if you were bent . . . Malfoy? Ew.” A shiver went through Ron, which he exaggerated.

“Yeah, right?” Harry laughed half-heartedly. _Did Ron just imply that I could be bent?_

“I mean, that would be a shock to all the girls who are after you, and the girls you’ve been with,” Ron continued. “And Malfoy’s just so---” Ron made a gagging face.

“Yeah, I get it, Ron,” Harry said sternly. “You don’t have to keep harping on it. It would be disgusting if I were bent and had a thing for Malfoy. Don’t worry, not gonna happen.”

“Of course not, mate,” Ron clapped him on the back. “You’re the most eligible bachelor at Hogwarts. Now that you’ve broken up with Ginny.” He frowned.

“It was mutual, Ron.”

“I know. But I really thought you two had something.”

“We did,” Harry said. “For a while.”

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe with all the drama of the war gone, it just sort of, fizzled out. It was like, I started thinking of her as more of a sister, and it didn’t feel right to--”

Ron cut him off. “Don’t say another word. She actually is _my_ sister, you know. Anyway, you’re free to play the field. Maybe next party you’ll get Greengrass. Not that you really need to wait for an excuse”

“Which Greengrass?”

“Does it matter, mate? They’re both gorgeous.”

Nodding, Harry agreed. “What about you? Do you think you’re single, or will Hermione take you back?”

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough. Here she comes.”

Hermione stood before the boys, opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t. She exhaled sharply, then announced that she was going down to breakfast, turned on her heel and left.

Ron and Harry looked at each other.

“Should we go with her?” Harry asked.

“I think that was her way of letting me know I could, without actually telling me. Come on.” Ron took Harry by the sleeve and dragged him until they caught up with Hermione.

The three walked into the Great Hall to find Ginny already there, lost in thought.

“Hey Gin? Dreaming about last night?” Ron teased.

“Ha. Ha,” Ginny said humorlessly. “I’m sure I had about as much fun as Harry.”

“Actually, it wasn’t that bad.”

The other three Gryffindors stared at him.

“What? We drank some firewhiskey and played a game of chess.”

“What on earth did you talk about all night?” Ginny asked.

“We asked each other questions. He sort of made it part of the game. My requirement was to answer honestly. I got to ask him a question for every one he asked me.”

“Like what?” Ron queried.

Harry shrugged as if he didn’t recall. “Nothing too personal,” he lied. “Besides we didn’t stay up very late anyway. He got mad at me for something and went to sleep before two.”

Ron chuckled. “So what did you and Zabini do all night, Sis?”

“I read a book. He read the Prophet. It was very quiet. And boring. But I gather it was better than some couples had.”

“A lot of boys were mad that you got Daphne, Hermione. What did you two do?” Harry asked.

“We did make-overs on each other. Not that she needed one.”

“You looked really pretty,” Ron complimented, trying to get on her good side. She stared at him blankly. “But you always look really pretty. Uh, you didn’t need a make-over either,” he stammered.

“And what did you and Lavender do?” Hermione pointedly asked.

Ron’s face flushed. He knew he wouldn’t get away with lying. Everyone knew that Lavender still had a thing for him and with her being the Chooser, she would have had him do as much to her as the game would allow.

“Well, she---”

“I don’t want you to really tell me!” Hermione yelled at him. She got up and left, having eaten only half her breakfast.

Ginny leaned forward. “What the fuck is your problem, you moron? She wasn’t seriously asking. She was making a point. I’m rethinking trying to talk her into forgiving you.”

“No, Gin, please. Help me. I was so stupid. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Do you truly want her back?” Ginny asked Ron. “Because I wonder why you went to that party at all, if you genuinely love her.” 

“We have our problems, same as anyone. But I do love her. Being with Lav was strange and awkward. She doesn’t know me like Hermione. No one does. I didn’t realize how good I had it. Now I hope it’s not too late.”

“Maybe if you keep talking like that, she’ll come around,” Harry suggested.

“Damn Slytherins putting ideas in my head,” Ron hissed.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin students, one in particular. “Yeah,” he said mindlessly.

hdhdhd

Harry knocked on the Headmistress’s door and waited for her to answer.

“Why, Harry, how lovely to see you. Come in.” Professor McGonagall stepped aside to allow Harry entrance. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, actually, there is. You see, I had been using Draco’s wand, and I gave it back. So now I’m wandless. He told me you had some of the wands left behind.”

“Yes, I do. Most of them belonged to Death Eaters who perished on the property. But some of the others are still here.”

“I plan on going back to Diagon Alley to get one of my own, but, for now, do you suppose I could use one of the ones you have?”

“Of course, Harry. I have a few you may be interested in.”

The professor walked back to an alcove, out of Harry’s sight for a moment, then returned with a small box. She placed it on her desk and opened the lid.

“Are you certain you want to do this, Harry? It may be more difficult than you think.”

He nodded.

Taking one out, McGonagall told Harry, “This one belonged to Professor Lupin.” 

“Remus,” Harry whispered. Tears stung at his eyes.

“And this one, Tonks.”

Harry reached out to pick up Remus’s wand, but hesitated. “Why weren’t they buried with them, like Fred’s?”

“They were willed to the school. I suppose for purposes such as yours. They wanted to have their wands go to good use.” She took another wand from the box and placed it on her desk. “Perhaps, Colin Creevey’s wand would be more appropriate.”

Harry picked it up. He immediately felt a kinship with the wand. Not the same as his own, but familiar and comforting. “Why was this left?”

“His parents are muggles, very bitter about the wizard war. They forbade their son to fight, but he didn’t listen. The Creeveys had no use for the wand.” The Headmistress put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “But it would have meant a great deal to Colin for you to have it.”

Harry could see her eyes glistening in the dimly lit chamber. “Then I’ll honor him by using it wisely,” he told her. “Thank you, Professor.” He forced himself to blink back his own tears.

He left McGonagall’s chambers with mixed emotions. He was glad to have a wand that fit so nicely with his own magic. But sad for the circumstances under which he acquired it.

Going back to his own chambers, Harry spent most of the rest of the day alone, pondering the events of the night before. He found himself wanting to continue his interrogation game with Malfoy. There were many things he was curious about, but he knew Malfoy would never voluntarily answer Harry’s queries. And Harry wouldn’t know how to begin a normal conversation with him.

Harry also found himself mulling over Ron’s words. Was he really the most eligible bachelor at Hogwarts? Did the girls gossip about him? He never seemed to notice many of them. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to. He had been dating Ginny. But even now, being partner-free, he was hard pressed to say he was attracted to any of them in particular. Daphne Greengrass was beautiful. Perhaps Ron was right. He shouldn’t wait for a silly game to tell him with whom spend time. Perhaps he would ask Daphne for a date, or something. First chance he got.

hdhdhd

October 15 1998

The first chance Harry got, or rather, took, didn’t come until Thursday of that same week. After Potions class, he finally gathered up the courage to talk to her.

He stood next to her and cleared his throat for her attention.

She turned to him and smiled. “Hi Harry.”

“Hi, Daphne.” He swallowed and forced himself to continue. “Um, I was wondering, um, if you would want to, maybe, study with me sometime.”

She giggled. “Study?”

“Yeah. Or something,” he said noncommittally.

“All right,” she answered.

“Brilliant. How about tonight? Half-seven in the library?”

She appeared confused for a moment and cocked her head. “Oh. Okay.”

“Great. See you then,” he said awkwardly. He walked out of the classroom and into Ron, who had been watching.

“Well? What did she say?”

“She said yes. We’re meeting in the library tonight.”

Ron’s brow furrowed. “The library? Not very private.”

“We’re just going to study. It’s not really even a date. I want to get to know her a bit.”

“What’s to know? She’s got tits like fucking grapefruits.”

“Ron,” Harry chastised. “It’s a wonder you and Hermione ever got together in the first place.” He shook his head and walked to his next class.

hdhdhd

Harry was almost to the library, when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into a dark corner.

“Daphne, what are you doing?”

She looked down at the books in his hand. “You mean, you really came here to study?”

“Well, yes. That’s what I asked you, isn’t it?”

“I thought it was like a code word. You know, for snogging or shagging,” Daphne admitted.

Harry looked down at his books. He felt like an idiot. There was a beautiful girl standing in front of him, ready to snog, and he was planning to study. 

“We don’t _have_ to study,” he offered nervously.

Daphne gently removed the books from Harry’s hand and bent down to put them on the floor. When she rose back up, her body lightly rubbed against his, her face, only inches from his.

Harry tilted his head and firmly pressed his mouth to hers. Their lips worked together, opening and closing smoothly and slowly. Harry reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, tangling them in the process.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against her mouth. He could feel her grin against his.

“I’ll wear a ponytail next time,” she whispered. Her attempt to comb through his hair wasn’t any more successful. She knocked his glasses off one ear, almost poking him in the eye.

He broke the kiss and removed his glasses and put them in his shirt pocket. “I guess I don’t need these anyway.”

Pushing Harry back a few steps to the wall behind him, Daphne pressed her hips into his. He groaned at the pleasure of the pressure. Their mouths connected once more, urgently, feverishly. Harry’s trousers were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight as Daphne continued to grind against Harry’s groin.

Stopping the kiss long enough to talk, Harry whispered, “Someone is going to hear us.”

“Silencio,” she muttered after groping for her wand, then continued to snog him.

Harry wondered if they were in a dark enough corner to hide them as well. He swiftly forgot that thought when she guided one of his hands to her breast. It was not like a grapefruit at all, he thought. More like a balloon filled with jelly. She moaned when he kneaded it, encouraging him to carry on. Her hands slid down in the tight space between the wall and his arse, squeezing his firm cheeks.

Pressing harder against Harry’s now fully erect cock inside his trousers, Daphne found a rhythm that pleased her as well as him. She rode up and down, pausing ever so slightly before changing direction. Suddenly, she picked up her pace and whimpered into Harry’s mouth. Her body jerked, then stilled as she gripped Harry’s arse tighter and forced him harder against her.

“Ah,” she breathed. “Oh, I needed that.”

Harry was still leaning against the wall, painfully hard and panting.

Daphne gave him a fake pout. “Aw, poor thing. Let me take care of that for you.” She unzipped his trousers and slid her hand inside. He moaned.

As she stroked him, Daphne kissed him sensuously, slipping her tongue into his gaping mouth. He kissed back, wrestling his tongue with hers.

“You’re a great kisser,” she said.

“Mmn,” was the only thing Harry could say as Daphne’s hand expertly worked Harry toward his climax.

“And you’re _so_ big,” she purred, running her hand up and down his length. “I think you could give Draco a run for his money.”

_Draco?_

The image of his sleeping face flashed into Harry’s mind.

“Ung. Fuck. Oh.” Harry’s pants and Daphne’s hand were suddenly covered in jizz.

“Merlin, that’s a lot of cum,” Daphne exclaimed.

“Fuck, Daphne. Why did you have to bring up Malfoy?” Harry grumbled. “That’s the last thing I wanted to think about.”

“You still came, didn’t you?” she smirked.

Now that it was over, Harry was a bit ashamed of his behavior. It didn’t matter that she initiated it. He didn’t even have any real feelings for her.

Daphne pulled out her wand once again and pointed it at Harry’s crotch. “Scourgify.” He quickly zipped his trousers back up.

“It appears the rumors are true. I should have bet Tracey,” she said, straightening out her own clothing.

“What rumors?”

“About your _wand_,” she giggled. “You know, the greater the wizard the bigger the wand.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He’d never heard that, but it seemed ridiculous to Harry. But then he had another thought.

“Did you only come here to find out?” He frowned.

“Oh, what are you complaining about? You got wanked by the most popular girl at Hogwarts. And I get to say I wanked Harry Potter.”

Mouth agape, Harry stood in disbelief. “You’re going to tell people about this?”

Daphne raised her eyebrows and smirked. Seeing the look on his face, her features softened. “Not _too_ many.”

“Daphne, please. I don’t ever do this sort of thing.”

“I know. That’s why there are only rumors about you. Ginny didn’t kiss and tell. Are you not going to brag about what we did?” Daphne was confused. Whenever a boy would get anywhere beyond a kiss with her, the news spread like wildfire. Most of them would tell whoever would listen.

“I’d like to be able to say no, but Ron knows I asked you to study and he’ll badger me until I give him at least some details. But that’s all, honestly.”

She looked into his pleading eyes and sighed heavily. “All right, I’ll only tell Tracey. And I’ll make her promise not to say anything. Are you always such a goody-goody?”

“I just let you jerk me off right outside the library. So, obviously no, I’m not always a goody-goody.”

“Well, see you at the party tomorrow night,” Daphne said.

“Oh, I don’t think I’m going,” he answered.

“What? But you have to. A lot of those girls go hoping they’ll get your wand.” She sniggered, “A couple of boys I’ll wager, as well. Please? If you get me, I’ll take you someplace more comfortable.”

Harry grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

She returned the smile and practically skipped away, leaving Harry to wonder. Why _didn’t_ he want Daphne to tell anyone? He was free to do as he pleased, after all. Who didn’t Harry want to know about it? And he couldn’t keep the disturbing question out of his mind-- was it simply a coincidence of timing, or did he cum because he thought about Malfoy?


	5. round two

October 15 1998

“And she jacked you off right there next to the library? Blimey Harry. It must be good to be the Chosen One.”

“Stop it, Ron. I’m not the Chosen One anymore. I was more like the accidentally chosen one anyway.” Harry paused and grinned. “But yeah, she did.”

“Lucky bastard.”

Changing the subject Harry asked, “Any progress with Hermione?”

Ron shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. She’s speaking to me. Sometimes. Lavender keeps pestering me, though. It’s like sixth year all over again. Lavender is there, ready and more than willing. But all I can think about is Hermione.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that Hermione had quietly stepped into the common room. He could tell she’d heard what Ron said by the small smile on her face. Harry decided to try and help Ron along.

“Did you apologize?” he questioned.

“About a billion times. She only says ‘okay’. But she doesn’t say she forgives me.”

“And you’re sure you want her back?”

Ron sat up straighter and gave Harry a scowl. “Do you think I’d be so fucking miserable if I didn’t? I could go out and get Lav right now if I didn’t want Hermione back. I’d go to that party tomorrow night if I didn’t want her back. I mean, sure, the prospect of fooling around with someone new is exciting. Don’t get me wrong. Who _wouldn’t_ want to be wanked by Daphne?”

Harry winced. He was hoping Ron wasn’t going to undo all of the good he just did by going on about another girl. That, and he didn’t want Hermione to know what he did.

“You?” Harry asked, prodding him in the right direction.

Ron shook his head. “I was just looking for a little . . . spice, you know? But I was looking for it in the wrong place. I never should have gone to that bloody party.”

“So, go tell all that to her.”

Revealing herself to Ron, Hermione smiled softly. “He just did.” She walked closer to him. “I heard everything you said. You’re really not going to the party?”

“No. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Then perhaps we can have our own private party.”

Ron’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” She slipped her hand into his. Squeezing it tightly, she warned him, “But if you _ever_ do anything like again, I’ll throw a severing charm at you. A specific part of you.”

Swallowing hard, Ron nodded. “Now we have to get you and Ginny back together and everything will be back to normal.”

“Ron . . .” Harry didn’t know how to tell Ron that his feelings for Ginny were gone, beyond the friendship.

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” Hermione told them. “Ginny is over it.”

“Over it? You mean, she’s over Harry already?” Ron demanded to know.

“It’s a good thing, Ron. We’re through. She deserves someone less confused. It’s all right,” Harry assured him. “We’re still friends.”

“Confused about what?” Hermione frowned.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. I’m simply not ready to be in a relationship right now is all.”

Hermione was skeptical, but let it go.

hdhdhd

October 16 1998

Friday night at half-nine, a parade of Gryffindors went through the common room past Harry, reading at a desk. He glanced up.

“Aren’t you coming Harry?” Parvati asked.

He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow.

“The wand party. Aren’t you coming?” she repeated.

“Oh. I wasn’t planning to. No.”

“Why not, Harry? Afraid you’ll get Malfoy again? Or afraid you _won’t_,” Seamus laughed.

“I’m afraid I’ll get _you_ and I’ll have to spend the entire night kicking your sorry arse.”

“I’m only kidding Harry,” Seamus changed his tune. “I know _you’re_ not the ponce.”

Harry wondered if Seamus was implying that Draco was. He had heard rumors. And by the fussy way Draco went about carrying himself, it was easy for Harry believe it could be true.

“You should come, Harry,” Romilda chimed in. “It’ll be fun. What are the odds you get paired with Malfoy again?”

Closing his book, Harry rose from his chair. “You know, I think I will go.”

He joined his fellow Gryffindors as they snuck down into the dungeons and gave a special password for use only as entrance to the party. It looked to be the same crowd as before, minus Ron and Hermione. Lavender slipped next to Harry and asked where Ron was.

“He and Hermione decided to have their own party. Just the two of them.” It gave Harry great satisfaction to tell her that bit of news. Lavender appeared supremely disappointed, but made her way around the room, talking to prospective partners. Harry made his way around as well, speaking mainly to fellow Gryffindors. But Daphne managed to corner him several times.

A few minutes before midnight, Blaise called for everyone’s attention. As they did previously, guests began retrieving wands in order by lottery. This time around, it went much quicker.

Harry had gotten a parchment bearing the number four and was glad he would have more choices this time round. When it was his turn, he handed Blaise his paper and reached into the cauldron. Groping around, Harry felt nothing at first. He reached in further, his fingertips grazing something smooth. A little stretch and he was able to grasp the wand. When he pulled it out and looked at it, the disappointment showed on his face.

He sighed and started to return the wand to the cauldron.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pansy asked.

“I’ve chosen my own wand,” he told her. “Aren’t I supposed to put it back and pick another?”

“That’s not your wand,” a weary voice said quietly.

“Yes it . . .oh. I forgot I gave it back to you.” Harry looked at Draco’s wand in his hand. “Bloody hell. Accio _fucking_ wand,” he grumbled. His own wand, formerly Colin Creevey’s, rose to him.

“You’re mistaken if you think I’m any happier about this than you, Potter.”

Harry heard Seamus trying, and failing, to stifle a giggle. He was next to choose after Harry and drew Daphne’s wand from the cauldron. “Better luck next time Harry,” Seamus laughed.

Draco and Harry were not the only pair to be repeated. Parvati chose Michael’s wand, and Millicent chose Justin Finch-Fletchley, the boy who always seemed to be called by his full name, even though there were no other boys named Justin. In addition, Pansy was paired with Theo, Blaise with Harper, Ginny with Dean, Astoria with Neville, Ernie with Luna, Tracey with Anthony, Susan with Romilda, and Padma with Lavender. Three of the four latter girls were displeased with the outcome.

Millicent protested. “This isn’t fair. I had to walk around with ass ears and a tail all week because of him. I don’t want to be his partner again.”

Pansy smirked. “But this time you are the Chooser. You can have him do whatever you want. Or don’t want.”

Millicent narrowed her eyes. “Maybe.” She thought a second. “Come on Finch-Fletchley, you’re going to clean my room.” Justin garnered many a sympathetic look as Millicent dragged him up to her dormitory.

On the other hand, Parvati seemed rather pleased to have another chance with Michael. After a few butter beers at the last party, he was most charming, not the shy boy he normally was. And this time, she was in charge.

Like before, couples wandered off to private areas leaving Harry and Draco standing uncomfortably close in the Slytherin common room.

“Oi, mate,” Blaise walked to Draco, with Harper close behind. He whispered something in his ear, and Draco nodded. Harper smiled self-consciously at Harry, then averted his gaze. After talking to Draco, Blaise grabbed Harper’s hand and took him into the boy’s dormitory.

“We may as well stay here again. I’ve been kicked out of my room,” Draco said.

“So, is Harper . . . a willing participant?”

Draco smirked. “Are we playing twenty questions again?”

“I suppose we could.”

“It’s your call Potter. You chose my wand,” Draco reminded him.

“All right. We’ll take turns asking questions again. For every question I ask you, you can ask me one. Answers must be honest, and complete.” The tip of Harry’s wand began to glow, and he felt a change in his magic. Draco felt it as well. “What was that?”

“I guess that was the game binding us to your rules.”

“I didn’t feel that last time,” Harry commented.

“I wasn’t holding my wand when I made my request. I wonder if Pansy knew that you have to be holding your wand for it to be binding?”

They stood still a moment, then shrugged it off. It wasn’t a big deal for them, they were only asking questions. However, Harry had a few that were of a more personal nature this go round.

“Another game of chess?” Draco inquired.

“You know you’re going to win again.” Harry sighed. They had nothing better to do. “All right.”

hdhdhd

“So, what do you want to do?” Dean asked awkwardly.

“Um, I suppose we could go to the Gryffindor common room,” Ginny replied.

“I think Lavender said she and Padma were going there.” Dean hesitated. “Don’t you have your own room now?”

“Oh. Yes, I do.” Ginny bit her lip. As the Chooser, everything was her call. “Okay, we could go there.”

Ginny wasn’t sure what to expect or even what they’d do once they got there. She and Dean walked silently until they reached the room she shared with Michael. When they walked in, Parvati was straddling Michael’s lap and they were snogging, heavily.

“Oops,” Ginny said.

Parvati gasped and hid her face in Michael’s shirt.

Chuckling nervously, Michael apologized. “Sorry, Ginny. I didn’t know you were coming back here.”

“Uh, no problem. We’ll just go in my room.” Ginny took Dean’s hand and pulled him into her bedroom.

“They didn’t waste any time,” Dean laughed.

“Yeah, I had no idea she was actually interested in him. I had no idea _anybody_ was interested in him.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked.

“Nothing really,” she shrugged. “He’s just . . . we dated for a while. He’s a bit whingy is all. Darn it. I wish I’d grabbed something to drink before we came in here.”

“Want me to go back out and get something?” Dean offered.

“Would you? I really don’t want to see them again.”

Dean listened at the door for a moment before cracking it open. He glanced around the small common room. “They’re gone. I guess they went into his room.”

“Good. Grab the pumpkin juice. I’ll get the crisps.”

Dean and Ginny snacked while they sat on her bed and talked. Summer plans to classes to failed romances were among the many topics they discussed.

“Why did you and Harry break up? Everyone thought you were perfect for each other.”

“Maybe we knew each other too well before we got together. I’d had a crush on him for so long and he was practically part of my family. He probably thought of me more like his little sister.”

“He must be mental, then,” Dean muttered.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

Dean brushed Ginny’s cheek with his hand. “I know I didn’t treat you that well when I had the chance.” 

“But that was two years ago. We were young and inexperienced. We’re past that.”

“Yes, we are,” Dean agreed.

He leaned close to Ginny but stopped short of kissing her. When she didn’t move away, he closed the distance. His lips were so different from Harry’s. So thick and full. Ginny forgot how much she liked to kiss them. His fingers gently ran through her hair. Hers rested gently on his firm chest.

He broke the kiss and leaned back to look at her. “Is this okay? I mean, do you mind me kissing you? You chose my wand. You get to say what we do.”

Blushing slightly, Ginny admitted she didn’t mind. In fact, she was enjoying it. She had originally gone to the parties for the purpose of getting herself good and shagged. For obvious reasons, that didn’t happen with Blaise. But now, facing Dean, she thought maybe she could find more. 

“I don’t know what your intentions were for attending the party, but now that we’ve been paired up again . . . I was thinking perhaps we could give it another go,” Ginny proposed.

“You’d give me another chance?” Dean seemed surprised. He knew he wasn’t the best boyfriend Ginny’d ever had.

“We had some good times,” Ginny smiled. “It wasn’t all fighting.”

He took Ginny’s hand in his. “If you do, I’ll make sure you don’t regret it. I promise to do better this time.” He had been a bit of the jealous type and they argued every time she simply had a conversation with another boy. “I won’t be a possessive prat like before. Ginny, I still really like you.”

“I still like you too.” Ginny wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him closer. They kissed and slowly sank down onto the bed until they were lying down, legs entangled, bodies pressed closely together.

Ginny wasn’t sure how long they had been at it, but she was getting tired. And although she was certain she could feel him hard through his trousers, Dean never pressed to go any further than kissing.

“We ought to get some sleep,” she murmured.

“Probably,” he whispered against her lips.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we should . . . “

He held a finger up to her lips. “It’s all right, luv. We’ll take it slowly.” 

He rolled her over to her other side and slid up behind her, draping his arm over her waist.

“Good night,” he whispered in her ear.

“Night,” she replied. She closed her eyes. She fit so well in his arms, she thought maybe this time they could make it work.

hdhdhd

Harry had a sense of déjà vu as Draco pulled out the bottle of firewhiskey they had drunk from the previous week. He briefly wondered if the evening would end the same embarrassing way. Harry would have to make certain it didn’t.

“I’ll start with my earlier question about Harper,” Harry said as he downed a shot of firewhiskey.

“Yes, he’s more than willing. I believe he and Blaise have had encounters before.” He drank his shot and immediately threw out his first question. “Do you have more insight into why you and the Weasley girl broke up?”

“I already answered that last time,” Harry protested.

“Ah, but this time it’s binding. You have to answer honestly and completely or pay the consequences.”

Harry paused. “Well, actually, I think I do. I think without all the hazards of the war, the need to cling to something good, we realized that we’re better off friends. She feels the same way. I don’t think we were ever really _in love_.” Harry felt his answer was honest, but he also felt compelled to elaborate further. “And, I want to experience other relationships, with other sorts of people.” It seemed a struggle for Harry to put it into words that were honest, yet somewhat general.

“So you want to shag a lot of girls,” Draco said simplifying it.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it,” Draco smirked.

Feeling he’d better quit while he could, Harry pondered his next question. What did he want to know about Draco? He kept his question in the same vein as Draco’s.

“Are you and Pansy an item or have you ever been?”

“We were, at one time. But we’ve had a physical relationship off and on for a couple of years. She usually comes to me when she’s in between lovers. I comply as long as I don’t have one of my own at the time. However, this game is serving as a suitable substitute.”

“How so?”

“Pansy doesn’t need me. She’s had Longbottom and now Nott.”

“What about you? Do you have someone right now?”

“That sounds like a separate question. I don’t feel obligated to answer,” Draco said.

“Do you mean that literally? Because, earlier, I felt like I was answering more than I meant to.”

“Yes, it does feel different. Your last two questions didn’t make me want to give a reply. I’m answering now because I want to.”

Harry frowned. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It’s equally irresistible as Veritaserum.”

Taking the opportunity, Draco made his next inquiry. “Why did you save me from the Room of Requirement?”

“It was the right thing to do.” Harry immediately felt a strange force, an unseen pressure to continue.

“Not good enough,” Draco said. He could see Harry struggling.

“I didn’t want you to die, all right. I didn’t want to see anyone else die.” 

“But you could have gotten Goyle and had Granger and Weasley get me,” Draco pressed.

“I wanted to get you myself. I didn’t know why. I just needed to.”

“I think you do know.”

“I knew you weren’t evil. I was in the Tower when Dumbledore was killed. You wouldn’t have done it. I thought you were worth saving. I wasn’t so sure about Goyle. And I didn’t trust Ron and Hermione to save you.” Harry hung his head. He had never admitted to himself even, that he didn’t fully trust his friends in that regard. He felt exhausted all at once. He picked up the bottle and poured another shot for himself.

Draco was truly surprised by Harry’s confession. The Golden Trio had a chink in the armor.

Closing his eyes, Harry was beginning to regret his rules of the game. He felt as though, with effort, he could resist answering the questions. But the cost was not only the exhaustion of the moment, but the consequences for the following week.

“Maybe we should stop asking each other questions,” he suggested.

“Don’t lose your nerve now, Potter. I know there’s more you want to know.”

There was.

Harry took another shot of firewhiskey, then another quickly after that.

“Did it hurt to get your Dark Mark?”

Subconsciously, Draco rubbed at his forearm. He poured himself another drink. “It was excruciating. Aunt Bellatrix and that fucking Greyback held me down. I thought I was prepared for the pain . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly. His head was beginning to swim as he stared at the faded tattoo.

“It’s not as if it was your doing. Don’t feel sorry for me, Potter,” Draco said bitterly. He picked up the bottle and drank directly from it. Harry snatched it out of his hand and did the same.

“You’d better slow down, Potter.”

The alcohol was beginning to hit Harry and he was getting fatigued. “I want to go to sleep.”

“You can’t,” Draco told him. “It’s my turn to ask a question.” He was feeling drowsy and drunk himself. “Why were you watching me last week?”

“Sorry? Watching you do what?” Harry’s eyes began to droop.

“You were watching me sleep.”

Harry tried to clear his head but couldn’t. The alcohol was making it impossible to resist the charm or to string together an honest, yet vague answer. 

“You’re very handsome,” Harry said, slurring the word handsome. He dropped his head on the table abruptly, momentarily passing out, his glasses bouncing off his face.

Draco sat across the abandoned chess game, his mouth hanging open like a cod fish. Despite having drunk quite a bit already, Draco felt the need to take another swig.

“Potter?” Draco reached across the table and shook Harry’s shoulder. “Potter?” he said, more insistently.

Suddenly, Harry’s head sprang up and he looked at Draco with unfocused eyes. “Are you bent?”

“I’m the Slytherin Bi that Pansy mentioned,” Draco was beginning to slur his words as well. He tried to concentrate long enough to ask his last question.

“Are _you_ bent?”

“I don’t know.” 

Harry stood, or tried to. He then crawled his way to the couch, Draco following behind him for fear of spewing half a bottle of firewhiskey all over the common room floor. They both had barely made it to the couch before passing out.

hdhdhd

“Do you even know how to get a girl off?” Tracey sighed heavily, irritated at Anthony.

“It’s not as easy as for a bloke to figure out, you know. It’s not like you’ve got a great big handle to grab onto.”

Tracey laughed. “It’s not like _you’ve_ got a great big handle to grab onto either.”

“Hey,” Anthony pouted. “I’m not ready yet. It gets bigger. And maybe if you’d stop trying to tell me what to do, I wouldn’t be so anxious.”

“Fine. Just get on with it.” Tracey lay back down on her bed. She had drawn her curtains and placed a silencing charm around them as Daphne had done.

Trying his best to be nice to the difficult Slytherin girl, Anthony softened his approach. He did not want to be on the receiving end of one of the punishments if he couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. “It might make things easier.”

Tracey looked at him for a moment, trying to decide. He wasn’t bad looking. “Yeah, all right.”

He hovered over her and placed his mouth over the pulse point on her neck. Making his way up, he kissed her jaw, then chin, then licked across her bottom lip. Tracey closed her eyes, relaxing a bit.

Her skirt was hiked up all the way and her knickers flung off the bed somewhere, but Anthony didn’t attempt to touch her exposed quim yet. Instead, he began to unbutton her blouse, slowly, one button at a time. He pulled her to a sitting position and slipped the sleeves off her arms, then reached around to unclasp her bra. She kept her eyes closed as he removed that as well, then gently lay her back down. Next, he unzipped her skirt and pulled it off, leaving her completely nude. He had rid himself of his own clothing the moment she first pulled the curtain.

Making his way back up, Anthony nuzzled her hairy patch and kissed her belly. The anticipation of his kisses reaching her breasts caused Tracey to arch up, trying to get him there more quickly. A long, satisfied moan escaped her lips when he did. He suckled her left breast, rolling his tongue around the nipple before moving on to the other. Her body responded with a generous amount of lubrication in anticipation of intercourse.

Tracey thought she wanted a quick rubbing off, but she had to admit, it was wonderful to be given tender attention. Anthony didn’t seem the sort at first, but at the moment she was very glad to have drawn his wand.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered in her ear. “I want you to get exactly what you want.” He said it partly because he genuinely wanted to please her and partly because he wanted there to be no mistake that he fulfilled his duty.

Getting caught up in the moment, she answered, “I want you to make love to me. Make me cum. Make me feel special.”

“As you wish,” he grinned. By now, his previously unimpressive appendage was at full capacity. Perhaps it wasn’t the largest one in the locker room, but he knew how to use it.

He took her hand and placed it on his cock, guiding her to stroke it gently. It felt fantastic, but he also wanted to prove to her that he was no slouch. She opened her eyes to watch what she was doing.

“Will my handle do, now?” he put forward.

“I believe it will.”

He removed her hand and pushed her legs apart, her knees up. As he leaned forward to kiss her, he positioned the head of his penis at her entrance. She was more than ready for him. He felt a small bit of resistance as he pushed his way in. Her cries were muffled by his mouth over hers. He continued to press on, even as her cries became louder.

“Oh, Tracey,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good. I promise to make you feel good too.” One more slow movement and he hit home. “God, you’re tight.”

He leaned back to grin at her. His face dropped when he saw a tear, then another, fall down the side of her cheek.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you? I’m not _that_ big,” he tried to joke.

Licking her lips and holding her breath, she shook her head. But he could tell that she was lying.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she answered in a small voice. “Don’t stop. You’re already in. It’s too late now.”

“Bloody hell, Tracey. Are you a virgin?”

She nodded. “Was.”

“Oh, Tracey, why did you do this? Why would you let me do this?” Anthony wasn’t an overly sensitive bloke, but he’d only had one virgin before and it had been his first time as well. It had been rather disastrous and unpleasant for the young lady. He was more experienced now, but it was still a delicate situation.

“Please. Keep going. I’ll be fine. This is what I want,” she assured him. “You promised to make me feel good.”

“I will,” he swallowed. The passion had begun to wane and he was forced to pull out. “I need to, um, get back to, uh . . . just give me a minute.” He stroked himself to get back to his earlier state while he gazed upon Tracey’s nude form. She was rather curvy and appealing in the light of the Lumos spell he cast earlier.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he questioned again.

“Yes. I’m ready.” This time Tracey watched as he nervously repositioned himself.

As he looked down, he noticed a small amount of diluted blood and swallowed hard. “Tracey? Just because you’ve popped, doesn’t mean we have to do this.”

“You promised.” He could see her eyes shining with threatening tears. If he didn’t follow through, her first time would be remembered as a fiasco.

“You’re right.” Anthony gently caressed her lips with his own, attempting to get her to relax. He knew if she were tense, it would hurt all the more.

He took his time, worshipping her body, massaging and caressing every part of her. In time, she was soothed enough for him to enter her again. Taking it very slowly, he inched further and further, distracting her with gentle touches elsewhere.

When he was finally fully nestled inside, he spoke to her softly.

“That’s the worst of it,” he told her. “I’m going to move now. Tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll slow down, or stop.”

His hips began thrusting backward and forward, firmly but smoothly. At first, she tensed back up.

“Are you all right? Just relax baby.”

Tracey nodded. “Okay.”

Feeling that she needed a bit more distraction, Anthony glided a hand down between them, into her folds. He’d had trouble in the beginning of the evening locating that magic spot for her, and he hoped he had better luck now. She made a noise that sounded a little more like pleasure and he was encouraged. Subconsciously, he sped up the movements of his hips to match his fingers on her clit.

“Have you, um, have you ever cum before?” He was embarrassed to ask the question.

“Yes.” He could see her blush, even in the low light. “But only, you know, by myself.”

“I guess I’m gonna be all sorts of firsts for you. No pressure,” he laughed nervously. “I’m going to have to stop soon, or I’ll cum before you.”

“Will it still count?”

He thought it was a strange question and chuckled softly. “It doesn’t matter where I cum, this counts. Besides, I promised to make you feel special.” He pulled out and concentrated on her. “Is that good? Tell me if you want me to do something different.”

Tracey was surprised by how much he was trying to please her. Most of her friends shared stories of their first time that were not so pleasant. A lot of the boys didn’t even attempt to bring their girls. She didn’t know Anthony other than the occasional class together, and he was treating her with more tenderness than any other boy she’d ever been with.

With a fair bit of awkwardness, she took advantage of his willingness and directed him as he requested. “A bit to the left would be better. My left, that is.”

“Oh.” He complied.

“And a tad higher up,” she breathed.

He was rewarded with a long groan. Grinning to himself, he kept his hand moving at a steady pace. The sounds she was making were keeping him turned on and he wanted so badly to be back inside her. 

“Oh, yeah,” she mumbled over and over. He felt her body tense up as she strained to reach her climax. “Anthony,” she breathed out. “I’m so close.”

He leaned over and nibbled at her breast, flicking his tongue over her nipple. It sent her straight over the edge.

“Yes.” Tracey’s shoulders hunched and her toes curled while she whimpered through the orgasm. “Oh, God.”

Anthony couldn’t take it anymore. He reached down and pulled on his cock roughly.

Tracey lay moaning contentedly with a small smile on her lips. When she opened her eyes, she saw Anthony leaning back on the bed wanking away. She sat up, frowning.

“I could do that for you.” She reached out and placed her hand over his. He slid his hand out from under hers and let her take over.

They kept their eyes on each other as Tracey moved her hand firmly up and down his shaft. Her other hand wound around the back of his neck and pulled him to her. They locked lips and kissed hungrily.

When he came, he groaned into her mouth while clear spurts covered both their chests. Anthony collapsed on the bed, spent.

“That was bloody brilliant,” he panted. Lifting his head to look at her, he smiled. “All of it. Are you all right?”

Nodding, she answered honestly. “Yes. I’m a bit sore, but I’m okay. You were . . . wonderful. Thank you.” She shyly lowered her gaze.

“You know, you’re very different than I thought you were. Most of you Slytherins come off as . . .” He tried to think of a way to put it that wouldn’t be insulting. “Um, experienced and sort of demanding.”

Laughing, rather than getting angry, Tracey agreed. “In other words, slutty and mean? I think that’s because of Pansy and Daphne. We’re not all like that.”

“Yes, I realize that now,” he smirked.

“You’re not like I thought you were either.”

He chuckled. “I can only imagine what you thought of me.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so . . . so nice. Or so well put together.” She glanced down at his now slack appendage, then quickly looked elsewhere. Her hand caressed his shoulder and down his arm. “You’re actually quite fit.”

Timidly, he thanked her and returned the compliment. Sitting awkwardly, naked still, neither knew precisely what to do next.

“Um, I suppose we should get dressed,” Tracey finally suggested.

Looking down at his chest, Anthony made another suggestion. “A clean-up spell first, perhaps?”

“Right.” Tracey took her wand from the bedside table and cleaned them both up.

“It’s pretty late. We ought to go to sleep.” He bent down to retrieve the clothes he threw off in a hurry earlier. “Is it all right if we stay here?”

“If you want. The beds aren’t really meant for two, but I’m sure we could manage.” She buttoned up her blouse as she contemplated the evening. Logically, she knew it was just a game. There were no real feelings between them, despite how he made her feel. They barely knew each other and yet she gave herself to him.

After dressing, the pair gingerly slipped under the sheets, and lay facing one another.

“Well, good night,” he said softly.

“Good night.”

Tracey watched as Anthony drifted into a peaceful sleep. She herself wouldn’t fall asleep for hours, the events of the evening playing in her head over and over.

Was it possible to fall for someone she hardly knew at all in just a couple of hours? Was he simply a good enough actor to make her believe that he cared? She didn’t want the morning to come. She didn’t want to regret what she had done. 

hdhdhd

October 17 1998

The first thing Harry heard was the sound of giggling girls. The second thing was Draco’s voice resonating in his ear. He was yelling something at Harry. It was an odd sound, until Harry realized why.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on top of the Slytherin, his ear to Draco’s chest.

“Get _off_ me Potter,” Draco was pushing him down until Harry finally fell off the couch and onto his bottom.

“What time is it?” Harry asked.

The girls, Tracey and Pansy, giggled again. 

“You’ve overslept boys,” Pansy chuckled. “I guess you were just so comfy, you didn’t want to get up.”

Holding his head, Harry sat on the floor, moaning. “My head is killing me. Does anyone have any hangover potion?”

“Yes, for myself. Go back to Gryffindor and get your own,” Draco told him.

Harry tried to remember what happened the night before. He did remember some of it. But not getting to the couch, and certainly not crawling on top of Malfoy. He wondered if Malfoy remembered, but it didn’t seem like the opportune time to ask. Draco appeared a bit put out.

With great effort, Harry eventually made it up to Gryffindor Tower. His friends bombarded him with questions the moment he stepped through the portrait.

“Harry where have you been?” Hermione grilled him.

“Yeah, we waited for you a little while, then we went down to breakfast. You missed it.”

Harry looked at the mantle clock. Nearly eleven. He groaned. “At least lunch isn’t too far off,” he gave a half-hearted laugh.

“Are you hungover?” Hermione peered closely into his eyes.

Harry exhaled sharply. “Yes, mum,” he answered sarcastically. “Draco and I did some serious damage to his bottle of firewhiskey. I slept right through the wands sparking this morning. I need some hangover potion.”

“Got it, mate,” Ron bounded out of the room to retrieve his stash.

Taking the opportunity of being alone with Hermione, Harry inquired about her evening with Ron.

“It was lovely. We ate by candlelight and talked. About everything. We got a lot of things out in the open. I think we’re back on track.”

“I’m happy for you, Mione. Both of you.” He was sincere but his expression didn’t match.

“What is it, Harry? Is something bothering you?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I can’t remember everything that happened last night. I think maybe I said something or did something . . . it’s probably nothing.”

He waved it off, but deep down, it was nagging at him. It was almost within his recollection. He’d told Draco something he didn’t want to but was powerless to stop himself. If only he could remember the question.


	6. so, that's how it is

October 17 1998

When she walked into the Great Hall, Romilda Vane tried to cover her face. She had combed her hair in an attempt to cover her forehead and even considered cutting fringe to hide it. She glared at Susan Bones as she walked past the Hufflepuff table. A group of them giggled.

“What’s wrong?” Parvati asked Romilda when she sat down.

“That little witch. She promised she wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to,” Romilda vaguely answered.

Parvati turned and looked around. “Who? Susan?”

“Of course, Susan. You were there. You saw that I got paired with her. Did you know she’s actually a lesbian?”

“Well, yeah. It’s common knowledge,” Parvati told her.

“She came out sixth year with one of the older Hufflepuffs,” Lavender added.

“Who the hell pays attention to anything the Hufflepuffs do?” Romilda asked rhetorically.

Lavender and Parvati shared a look. “So, did she try to, you know . . .” Lavender asked.

“It was fine right up until the end. I told her straight away that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with me. And she promised she wouldn’t make me. We talked and listened to music for most of the time. And we slept on the floor of the Huufflepuff common room. Millicent and Finch-Fletchley were in there as well.”

“Sounds not so bad,” Parvati commented. 

“No, she went back on her word. We woke up shortly before eight o’clock.” Romilda crossed her arms over her chest roughly. “She wanted me to kiss her. I only had a minute or two to decide. I couldn’t do it. And then the spell ended. By the time I got back to Gryffindor, this happened.” She lifted her hair out of the way so they could get a good look at the word ‘loser’.

“I don’t understand,” Parvati said. “Anthony told Padma that he insisted that Ernie give him a hand job, which Ernie declined. But nothing happened to him.”

“Is Anthony . . . “

“No. Anthony said he only asked him because he wanted to see Ernie walking around looking like a donkey, or better yet, sexually frustrated in Dark Arts class,” Parvati chuckled.

“Does it look as horrid as I think it does?” Romilda questioned the girls.

“With your hair combed over like that, it’s not that noticeable,” Lavender offered. “At least everyone knows you’re not a lesbian,” she said sympathetically.

“I _really_ don’t think anyone thought that before,” Parvati snickered, bringing Romilda’s honour into question.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to the next party,” Romilda pouted.

“What about poor Harry?” Lavender said. The three girls looked down the table to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny, without Harry. “He got stuck with Malfoy, twice.”

“I wonder what they did all night.” Parvati smirked.

“They probably fought,” Romilda surmised.

“I don’t know. I heard Malfoy plays both sides of the field, if you know what I mean,” Parvati told them.

“But Harry doesn’t,” Romilda insisted. “I wonder where he is anyway.” She gasped. “You don’t supposed Malfoy made a pass at him, do you? Maybe Harry grew ears and a tail and is too ashamed to show up.”

“I don’t know about Harry, but Justin Finch-Fletchley is sporting a fine set,” Parvati laughed. The girls turned toward the entrance as he walked in, literally with his tail between his legs.

hdhdhd

October 19 1998

Draco Malfoy screwed up the courage to do something he never thought he would. He walked up to Hermione Granger as she sat in the library with her friends-- his former enemies. He cleared his throat, capturing their attention. Not knowing Draco’s intentions, Harry became slightly nervous.

“Whatcha want, Malfoy?” Ron asked, not exactly in a friendly manner.

“Um, Granger, I wanted to ask . . . have you chosen a writing partner for the History essay yet?”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you asking _me_ to be _your_ partner?”

Draco scanned the trio apprehensively. “Well, I don’t have a partner yet and I thought perhaps those two paired up,” he gestured to Harry and Ron. “And you would be in need of one. I’d do my fair share.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Actually, Ron is my partner.” She would probably never admit it to Ron and Harry, but she was flattered that Draco sought her out specifically.

“Why don’t you work with Pansy?” Ron asked.

Snickering, Draco replied, “She’s one of my best friends, and she’s cunning as hell. But academically, Pansy doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together. Besides, she’s partnered up with Blaise.”

“Well, Harry doesn’t have a partner yet,” Hermione offered. She felt Ron gently kick her under the table, which earned him a glare.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to work with Ginger, then.”

“You mean Ginny?”

“Right,” Draco laughed. “Well, thanks anyway.” He turned to walk away, convinced that Harry wasn’t interested in collaborating with him.

Harry wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he called out to Draco to stop him. He really didn’t want to work closely on a project with Ginny, thinking it would be awkward for both of them.

“If you want, I’ll work with you.”

Ron gaped, eyes widening. He couldn’t believe Harry was actually volunteering to work with Malfoy.

“I suppose I could do worse,” Draco smirked. Of course, there was the matter of Harry’s little confession and waking up with the Gryffindor lying atop him. Not that Draco was truly complaining, but now there seemed to be an odd uncertainty between them. He wasn’t positive, but he thought either Harry didn’t recall what happened, or he was an exceptionally cool customer. Draco decided it was the former, as Harry seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve normally. Draco himself would have to be the cool one. Unfortunately, he remembered every detail of the evening. “I certainly don’t want to get stuck with Millicent or Mandy.”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed. “Me neither.”

After he and Draco settled on a famous wizard about whom to research and divided up the work, Harry sat and wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into. It wasn’t bad enough that his mind kept wandering to the previous week’s wand party and the compromising position they were in the following morning. Harry still couldn’t quite remember what happened. Or perhaps, he didn’t want to.

hdhdhd

October 21 1998

Harry wasn’t watching where he was going. His mind was still on Friday night. It had been five days and he still couldn’t remember what happened. He hadn’t noticed that the person in front of him had stopped to let another student pass. Harry walked straight into Malfoy, pinning him against the wall.

“Watch where the fuck you’re–” He stopped when he turned and saw that it was Harry.

“Sorry Malfoy, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly.”

They regarded one another briefly. Draco appeared unusually uncomfortable and Harry just knew it was because of what happened Friday night. He just didn’t know what it was.

“Better get into class,” Draco mumbled. “Potions challenge today.” He swiftly entered the classroom and found his seat without giving Harry a second glance.

Harry made his way to his own seat and waited for Professor Slughorn to begin.

“I won’t waste your time today with a lecture. Today you will be making a particularly challenging potion,” Slughorn told the class. “The winner will receive a certificate to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, to purchase your own potion ingredients. Page one hundred seventy-three in your books, please.”

The students scrambled to quickly get to the proper page. Doxycide. “Have at it,” Slughorn simply said and sat down at his desk to do some paperwork.

Hermione was the first to the potions cupboard to retrieve ingredients. After her, there was a bottleneck of students clamoring to get the best specimens. When she returned to her seat, she noticed that Harry hadn’t even gotten up yet.

“Harry,” she whispered. “You’d better hurry, or the best stuff will be gone.”

His heart not completely in it, Harry got up to get what he needed. With Hermione and Draco in the class, Harry knew he’d never win a challenge, so he simply concentrated on getting the job done correctly.

As he worked, Harry’s eyes often drifted to Malfoy. He was busy working, but paused every so often, as if in deep thought. Near the end of the class, Harry finally let go of his preoccupation with the events of Friday night. He felt his potion was going well, but he was far behind many of the other students.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you finished?” the professor asked when he noticed Draco sitting and staring into his cauldron.

“Sorry? Um, no professor, not yet. I was just . . .”

“I’m afraid you need to finish the potion by the end of class. You’ll not pass on good looks alone, my boy” Slughorn laughed.

Pansy raised her hand and grinned. “Are you certain, Professor? He _is_ very handsome.”

The class joined in the laughter.

Suddenly, Harry’s stomach dropped and his heart began to pound. It was only a piece, but he remembered something from that night that had been eluding him.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione asked in a hushed voice. “You’re all flushed,” she chuckled softly.

He carelessly threw in his remaining ingredients, causing his potion to bubble unexpectedly, then fizzle out before it had a chance to change color. Slughorn leaned over Harry’s cauldron. “I’m afraid you’ve jumped the gun, boy. That powdered graphorn has to be added slowly.”

Hermione was just then adding her graphorn. She heard the professor and slowed it down, watching the color of the potion turn from rust to brilliant green. “Done!” she called out.

Slughorn inspected her cauldron and spooned out a bit to smell. “Beautifully done Miss Granger. You are my winner today.”

Hermione beamed. Others groaned, as they were only a step behind her. Professor Slughorn presented Hermione with her certificate while the class looked on. She was tied with Draco in wins, but he appeared distracted and she knew she would have to be on her best to continue beating him. 

Draco completed his potion, in fifth place, and cleaned up his station. When he finished, he noticed that Harry was already gone.

Hurrying to clean up, Hermione wanted to catch up to Harry. Ron’s potion went well for a change and he took third place. He was humming to himself as he straightened up his station, quite proud.

“Hurry up Ron,” Hermione urged. “Something’s up with Harry. We’ve got to find him.”

“What? What’s up?”

“Didn’t you notice? Harry got all flustered at one point, then simply tossed his potion together and left,” she told him. “He couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe he had somewhere else to go. I wasn’t really paying much attention.” He stood tall. “I came in third. Did you see?”

Hermione’s demeanor softened. “Yes. I’m very proud of you. Of course, the one time you concentrate on class work, is the one time I wish you had been observing Harry’s odd behavior. I think it has something to do with Draco.”

As luck would have it, Draco happened to be walking by at the time. He snapped his head in Hermione’s direction.

Without thinking, as usual, Ron spoke out of turn. “Oi, Malfoy. Do you know what’s wrong with Harry?”

“Wh-what? Why would I know anything?”

“What happened at the wand party?”

“Who said anything happened? Did he say something happened? Nothing happened,” Draco stammered. He turned and left the class abruptly.

hdhdhd

The rest of the day, Harry insisted that nothing was wrong. No matter how much his friends asked, he told them he was fine. Ron was perfectly happy to accept it and went about his day as usual. Hermione, of course, wasn’t buying it for a minute.

After supper, she and Harry went to the library to get books for History of Magic research paper due the following week. As they walked by the alcove next to the entrance, Harry blushed, remembering his tryst with Daphne.

Being as observant as she was, Hermione noticed. However, she waited until they were comfortably settled in the library to bring up the subject.

“Harry? Can I ask you something?”

He smiled. “You’re going to, whether or not I say you can.”

Hermione pursed her lips. She knew he was right.

“What happened in Potions this afternoon? Why did you ruin yours and run out like that?”

“I wasn’t trying to ruin it, Hermione. I was behind and it got messed up when I tried to put it together too quickly.”

“Harry,” she narrowed her eyes. “I know you well enough to know when you’re not telling the whole truth. You were thrown off by something in class. What was it?”

Harry was attempting to come up with something, anything, to tell Hermione.

“Is it about Malfoy?”

Harry’s mind went blank. He just stared at her.

“Did you remember what happened at the party?” She continued to badger him. “For Godrick’s sake, Harry. Just spit it out.” Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation.

“I told him I thought he was very handsome.” His voice was so soft, Hermione could scarcely hear.

“Sorry? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“I’m not saying it again, Mione. You heard me correctly.”

“Why would you _do_ that?”

Again, Harry blushed, averting his gaze.

“Oh.” Hermione sat back in her chair.

“The game made me say it. I had to answer his question,” he defended himself. “Plus, I was completely pissed, which was stupid in and of itself.”

Hermione reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. “What was his question?”

He sighed heavily. He wanted to get it off his chest, but he also didn’t want anyone to know. As he always did, he put his trust in Hermione.

“He wanted to know why I was staring at him, the morning after the first party.”

“You were staring at him?”

“I was watching him sleep. I’d never really looked at him close up. Have you?”

“No, I suppose not,” she answered. “And, you found him attractive?”

“I . . . don’t know.”

It wasn’t the ‘no’ Hermione was expecting. She cleared her throat. This was uncharted territory for her. And although she had an open mind, she wasn’t sure what to say to her friend. His answer left room for the possibility that he was attracted to men, or at least one in particular.

“And I’m really not certain, but I think in my drunken state, I may have . . . never mind.” He was loathe to tell her how he woke up practically straddling the blond.

“Perhaps you should be speaking with Ron about this instead of me.”

He reversed their hands and squeezed hers. “No, Hermione. You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone. Please.”

“But I don’t know how to handle this.”

“There’s nothing to handle. I was drunk. It was a game. That’s all. I just needed to tell someone. And now that I have, it sounds ridiculous. Of course I’m not attracted to Malfoy. I mean, just last week Daphne Greengrass and I practically shagged right outside here. And I was with Ginny for a while.” Harry seemed to be talking at double speed.

“Wait, you and Daphne? When was this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved it off. “The point is, I’ve been with a few girls. _Girls_. Not boys. And definitely not Malfoy.” Harry began gathering up his books. He wasn’t angry at Hermione, but he took it out on her. “You don’t need to handle anything, because there’s nothing to handle. Sometimes I wish you would just mind your own business Hermione.”

Harry stormed out of the library and up to his dormitory. He threw his books on his bed angrily.

“What’s wrong? Did you and Hermione have a fight?” Ron asked.

“Must you two know _everything_?” Harry hissed. “Merlin!”

Harry took off his jumper and changed into a t-shirt.

“I’m going out. And before you ask where, I don’t know.”

Ron sat stunned on his bed as he watched Harry march out of the room.

Harry wandered about the castle for a while, cooling off from his tirade against Hermione and Ron. Poor Ron didn’t even know what hit him. He decided to head back to his dormitory on the seventh floor to apologize.

Footsteps up ahead made Harry freeze in his tracks. He backed up against the wall then inched his way to the windowsill. Pressing himself as tightly against the window frame as he could, Harry listened as the sound drew nearer. The footfalls stopped just past the small niche in which Harry was hiding.

“Lumos,” a girl whispered. She turned to see Harry.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry jumped down from the sill.

“Pansy, what are you doing up here?”

“I might ask you the same thing. At least I’m a prefect.”

“It’s not past curfew yet,” Harry snickered. “I meant, why are you wandering the classrooms alone?”

“Who says I was alone?” she smirked. “Actually, I left my quill in Divinations today and I came to get it.” She held it up. “Why are you here?”

“Just needed to get out of my House. I was on my way back. Goodnight, then,” he said and began walking past her.

“Harry. Wait.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, you know.”

She stepped closer, her wand illuminating her features. The soft light highlighted her cleavage, which was prominently displayed. Now that Harry thought about it. Her cleavage was always on display. His eyes were subconsciously drawn down.

He stood, waiting for her to elaborate.

“For trying to . . . hand you over. I was–”

“Pansy, we all did what we thought we had to do. You were scared. I understand that.”

“Thank you.”

It occurred to Harry that he’d never really had much conversation with Pansy. Of course, it could have been because she was more than willing to sacrifice him to Voldemort to save her own hide. But he never took much notice of her. She was always the girl by Malfoy’s side. Nothing more. Just a girl. But he liked girls, didn’t he? He could prove it. Hermione didn’t know what she was talking about. 

On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn’t anything special or particularly long. It was really sort of stiff. When he pulled back, she was clearly stunned.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“Why not?” he grinned. “You seem to have shagged just about every other boy here. Don’t you want to shag me?” He knew Pansy’s reputation as well as anyone. She was a flirt, but not a tease. Pansy had had many of the older boys at Hogwarts. Most of Gryffindor eluded her though.

She grinned back. “Why Harry, I didn’t know you were the sort. You Gryfs come off as so morally superior.”

He laughed. “We are. But we get randy just the same as everyone else.”

Pansy laughed as well. The chance to shag Harry Potter and to find out if that old witch’s tale was true was much too tempting. Pansy never did have any willpower. She took his hand and quickly led him back toward room she was in previously. They slipped inside Trelawney’s room and locked the door behind them. Harry glanced about the room. He hadn’t taken Divination since Umbridge took over the school and the room creeped him out a bit. He always felt as if there were things watching him.

Pansy grasped his chin and made him look at her. She then removed his glasses and tossed them on a desk.

“That’s better. I don’t want your attention elsewhere.” She began unbuttoning her blouse, revealing a pink satin and lace bra that just barely contained her breasts. Harry finished the unbuttoning and ran his fingers over the soft material. While she removed her blouse, Harry reached around back and unclasped the bra. It fell forward exposing her pale pink nipples that seemed to match the bra. They were even softer than the satin.

Pansy unfastened Harry’s trousers and pulled them, along with his pants down in one swift motion, letting them pool at his ankles. As she stood, she took hold of the hem of his shirt and pulled up. Harry assisted in the removal of his shirt and stood, nude, save for his trainers and the jeans around his feet. Pansy ran her fingers down the thin trail of dark hair leading from his chest to his cock.

“My word,” Pansy breathed, looking down on him.

While she gently stroked it with the back of her hand, Harry’s cock grew to its full extension, pointing straight out at her and hard. He pushed her back a few steps and lifted her up slightly to sit on Trelawney’s desk, bringing her snatch to just the right level for him. 

Harry leaned over and licked her left breast, the nipple hard against his tongue. He sucked, eliciting a deep moan from Pansy. He reached up under her skirt and tugged her knickers down, then hiked the skirt up, getting a full view of her.

He was fairly certain she was ready for him, but to be sure, he ran a finger through her slit. It was juicy and ripe. He wasted no time entering her fully. Unlike Ginny, with whom he’d only had intercourse three times, Pansy was loose and experienced. Not needing to be especially gentle with her, Harry thrust himself in her over and over.

Nails raked over his back, adding to the pleasure. And Harry realized that he needed to put some effort into Pansy’s pleasure. That last thing he wanted was for her to spread stories about how their supposedly selfless savior was selfish when it came to sex.

Reducing his pace to a less frenzied rhythm, Harry again leaned down to suckle her breast, this time, the right. Her responsive moan encouraged him to use his tongue to tease her nipple. Pansy leaned back slightly on her hands to allow him better access.

Harry raked his fingers through her hairy patch, between her folds, moistening his fingers and spreading her juices. Pansy groaned in anticipation. His thumb slid around, searching for the sweet spot that would bring her the most pleasure.

When he found it, he was praised.

“Oh, yes. Harry, yes.”

He smirked to himself as she threw her head back. He wasn’t sure if she was really that moved or it was simply theatrics, but he didn’t care. His ego needed the boost.

Normally, when he’d been with Ginny, he would have kissed her and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. But kissing seemed too intimate a thing to do with Pansy. Their kiss earlier wasn’t necessarily something he needed to repeat. Ironically, burying his cock to the hilt inside of her didn’t feel as personal to him. He rested his forehead on her chest and closed his eyes while continuing to pump and stimulate her simultaneously. He just wanted to feel, without thinking for a change.

“Harry, that’s so good,” she murmured.

Several minutes of the rhythmic movements brought them both close to climaxing. Pansy’s moans became deeper, lower, almost growling. Harry himself had begun to murmur as well. The beat of the desk knickknacks banging together, the hum of Pansy’s moans and Harry’s grunts came together like a song. A song sure to end on a high note. 

Logic and reason had completely abandoned Harry. He let loose, feeling the moment.

“Oh,” Pansy’s soft, low voice echoed in Harry’s ear. “Oh, Potter,” she whispered.

“Mm. Malfoy,” Harry muttered back.

Instantly, Pansy pushed him back. His eyes sprang open as he realized what he’d just said. Though both were painfully close to orgasm, it was as if a cold shower rained reality down on them. They stared at one another, absorbing Harry’s words, or more precisely, word. The weight of it hanging over them.

Slowly, the corner of Pansy’s mouth raised. “So _that’s_ how it is.”

Harry bent down to retrieve his trousers, unceremoniously shoved his now deflating cock inside and zipped up.

Pansy, however, remained with her legs spread on the desk. “Harry Potter, are you a pouf?” she smirked.

“No. And it’s none of your business.”

She trapped him with her legs when he tried to move away. “But Draco _is_ my business. What are your intentions toward him?”

“I don’t have any intentions toward him.” He squirmed half-heartedly to get away.

“But you called his name when you were making love to me,” she pointed out.

“I wasn’t making love to you. I was fucking you,” Harry spat. 

“Fine. Call it what you want,” she said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you were fantasizing about Draco while you were doing it. So, I’ll ask you again. What are your intentions toward him?”

“I don’t know.”

“What the hell kind of answer is that?”

“I don’t fucking know. It’s the only answer I have for anyone these days.” Harry suddenly remembered answering Draco’s last question from the game. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It was simply a response to you calling me Potter. He’s the only one that still consistently calls me that.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose now all of Slytherin is going to have a good laugh over this.” His own laugh was hollow and cold. “Fucking hell. You and your asinine game.”

Harry stormed out of the classroom without his shirt or glasses. “Bugger,” he hissed when he became aware that the dark wasn’t the only reason he had trouble seeing. In the time it took for Harry to decide whether or not to retrieve his glasses, Pansy caught up to him, bra on, but blouse undone, her wand lighting the way. She held out his forgotten items.

“You might want these,” she said.

He snatched them from her, and they finished dressing.

“I’m not going to tell,” Pansy told him.

Harry frowned, confused. “Really? Why not? Not that I want you to.”

“Because you would deny it. And I don’t want Draco to be made a fool of. He may come across as stoic and cold sometimes, but he’s actually got a tender heart.”

Harry scoffed at that. He’d seen Draco at his worst. When they were younger, he’d often wondered if Malfoy had a heart at all.

“I can understand why you doubt me,” she said. “But when he was younger, not quite sixteen, he confessed his love for a girl. He told her he would marry her someday. But she knew his affections leaned toward boys as well and she refused him, not wanting to be left wondering if he would eventually choose a boy over her. Her pride, and possible humiliation won out over her feelings for him. He was devastated when she broke it off and began a relationship with another boy. Draco was crushed and depressed. That summer, he became a Death Eater.”

Harry listened to Pansy’s story, debating its truth.

“He became harder, colder. Or at least he tried to. I heard him cry in dark corners often that year. Sixth year. Only since the war ended, has he slowly begun to pull himself together. I see glimpses of the boy who once laughed heartily, kissed tenderly and loved wholly.” She had a far off look in her eye. Then she glared at Harry. “I’ll not have you ruin that.”

“It was you, wasn’t it? The girl.”

Pansy nodded. “I couldn’t help feeling at least partly responsible for his downfall. Somehow, he managed to forgive me. But he’ll never love me again.”

“Why did you tell me that story?”

“Because, I don’t know if he’d even consider you, but if you do get the chance, don’t fuck it up.”

“But I already told you, I’m not–”

Pansy held her hand up at Harry’s face. “Maybe you can’t admit it to yourself, but I can tell, just by the look on your face as I told that story, you feel _something_ for him. And despite your excuses, you called me by _his_ name. Whether you like it or not, he’s under your skin. Don’t wait too long to figure it out, Harry.”

She left him standing in the corridor, alone and in the dark. Deep down, he knew she was right. Malfoy was under his skin. He just didn’t understand in what capacity. Was it the reason he and Cho didn’t work out, the reason he and Ginny didn’t work out? The reason that, despite girls clamoring for his attention, he always found himself watching Draco? Of course, it was always under the guise of keeping an eye on him, to keep him from wrong doings.

Harry leaned his head back against the cold, stone wall and closed his eyes.

“Shit,” he cursed softly.


	7. epiphany

October 23 1998

Having wasted the previous day moping around, Harry woke up Friday morning feeling a bit more optimistic. He had a plan to figure things out logically.

Harry had spent all day Thursday contemplating everything that happened in the past three weeks–his breakup with Ginny, the wand parties, Daphne’s hand job, and his fiasco with Pansy the other night. They all led him to one conclusion–fate always seemed to bring Draco into his life one way or another and now he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Harry remembered Hermione telling him he was obsessed with Malfoy at one time. Of course, she didn’t mean it in any sort of sexual sense. She was correct, but did that mean Harry was gay? He still found himself answering Draco’s last question with ‘I don’t know’.

Could he be attracted to another boy and _not_ be gay? Harry asked himself what he wanted from Draco. Did he simply like the way Draco looked? Maybe he only admired him. Did he like the way other boys looked? Could he imagine himself doing with a boy, what he did with Daphne or Pansy or Ginny? It certainly would be easier to please another boy. He was well acquainted with the proper parts. Girls were still a bit of a mystery. Knowing the general anatomy wasn’t always enough to get the job done without a little assistance on the girl’s part.

To carry out his plan, he spent more time observing and analyzing his responses to the males in his classes than he did on classwork. Some boys were not even a remote possibility in Harry’s mind. The thought of Seamus made Harry shudder and he actually felt a bit ill when he considered Ron. He immediately had to put that thought out of his mind. 

Dean Thomas on the other hand, had a pleasant smile and had grown quite tall and broad over the past two years. Harry certainly didn’t have any feelings for him, as he didn’t really know him well. But he could see why Ginny had been attracted to him. He was rather pleasant to look at.

When Dean caught Harry staring, he waved his hand in Harry’s face and laughed. Harry made up some excuse about not sleeping well the night before, which was true, and joked that he was trying to sleep in class with his eyes open. No one questioned Harry’s sincerity.

In Potions, Harry was put to the real test. Draco hadn’t been in his previous two classes that day, so he went about his observations in a very scientific way, making mental notes of his reactions to different boys, and girls. He found that his responses to boys and girls was similar. Some he found attractive, others, not. However, he still didn’t know if that was normal. If there was such a thing as normal.

It all flew out the window the moment Draco walked in the door. Harry felt a flutter in his belly. A small one, but it was present nonetheless. He dismissed it as being nervous about his little personal experiment. Before Draco sat in his chair, his eyes briefly flashed to Harry. It felt like an electrical impulse went through Harry and his heart began to beat a bit faster. Gone almost as quickly as it came, the feeling left little doubt in Harry’s mind that his reaction to Draco was unlike the others.

Students descended on the storage cupboard to get ingredients for the day’s brew as usual, but this time, Harry made sure to place himself close to the blond. Purely for research purposes, of course.

As he queued with the rest of the class, Harry grew anxious. His heart once again picked up its pace. He was close enough to catch Draco’s scent–clean and slightly musky. Harry wondered if it was soap, cologne or just Malfoy’s natural scent.

They both reached for the fluxweed at the same time, and Harry intentionally brushed his hand against the Slytherin’s. The same electric sensation he felt earlier hit him with a jolt. He withdrew his hand.

“Sorry,” he smiled and allowed Draco to take his sample first.

Without glancing at Harry, Draco answered, “No problem.” He left the cupboard by squeezing between Harry and the girl behind him. Harry noted with some amusement, that Draco could have gone the other way, which was less restricted.

Back at his cauldron, Harry made his potion along with Ron, who sat next to him. It wasn’t a challenge day, so the atmosphere was more relaxed. The boys chatted about all sorts of things, as most pairs did. Every so often, Harry’s gaze traveled to the blond head two tables in front of him and to the right. More than once, he thought he saw Draco looking back at him out of the corner of his eye.

Harry wished he had the nerve to go and speak to him as he would anybody else. The wand game provided the perfect excuse for conversation, but without it, Harry felt awkward. Over the course of the day, Harry had been slowly subconsciously allowing his feelings to reveal themselves. By the time their potion was made, Harry was convinced he was crushing on Draco Malfoy.

“What’s the matter with you, mate?” Ron poked Harry’s side.

“Huh?”

“You’ve got a goofy look on your face and you keep smiling at nothing.”

“No, I don’t.”

Ron scanned the classroom as they cleaned up. “Is there someone in here you like? You used to do the same thing with Cho.”

Harry kept his eye on his potion, ignoring Ron’s question, which only convinced Ron even more that he was correct.

“Who is it? I won’t tell.”

“I’m not saying,” Harry answered. Ron had already guessed, and Harry was a terrible liar. It might not be the worst thing for Ron to know he had a crush.

“Ooh, so I was right. I’m just gonna have to guess, then.” Ron considered all the girls in the class. None, but Hermione were for him. But then again, Ron didn’t really see what Harry saw in Cho either. “Is it Hannah?”

“Ron, I’m not telling you anything.” Harry continued to straighten up their workstation while Ron persisted his search.

“Mandy? She’s sort of cute. Oh God, it’s not Luna, is it?”

“What’s wrong with Luna? She’s very nice.”

“And bonkers.”

Harry hit Ron on the back of his head. “Shh, she’ll hear you.”

“Then tell me who it is, and I’ll stop pestering you.” When Harry didn’t offer any information, Ron made another guess. “Daphne. It’s got to be Daphne. Right?”

“No. She is very pretty, though.” Harry lowered his voice. “And she sure knows how to wank.”

Ron held his hand up for a high five, which Harry obliged.

“What are you two whispering about over here?” Hermione asked.

The boys looked at one another and burst out laughing. “Nothing, luv. Just guy stuff,” Ron said and kissed her cheek.

“Let’s go get supper, then,” Hermione said. Shaking her head, she muttered, “Boys.”

hdhdhd

Continuing his self-imposed research project at supper, Harry was quietly observing all of the other students, including his closest mates. There was a time when he would look at Ginny and get a feeling of butterflies, but it was gone now. And when he gazed over at Pansy, he had to admit to experiencing a warm sensation in his nether regions. But that was only a physical reaction to his memory of a couple of nights ago.

But when he directed his attention to the back of the blond head across the room, he had an urge for physical contact. He wanted him to turn around. He wanted to brush his hand against Draco’s again. The pull was almost irresistible.

Across the table from Draco, Pansy caught Harry’s eye. She smiled brightly and waved to him, much to his horror. Blaise and Draco both turned to see who she was waving to. Hermione asked aloud why Pansy was waving to him. 

“Cor Blimey! Is it Parkinson?” Ron didn’t mean to say it out loud, it slipped out.

All eyes seemed to be on Harry, and he could feel himself blush, almost to the point of breaking out in sweat. Harry did the only thing he could think of. He put his head down on the table, covered it with his arms and tried to will himself to die.

“Jeez, Harry. You didn’t do her too, did you?” Ron so tactfully asked.

“Too?” Ginny frowned. “Who else did you_ do_?”

“Apparently, he had and encounter with Daphne Greengrass near the library,” Hermione informed her.

Harry groaned in agony.

“Mione.” Ron scolded. “You didn’t have to announce it.”

“You just implied that he’d shagged Pansy. What’s the difference?”

“Please shut up,” Harry mumbled through his sleeves. He felt utterly humiliated.

“They’re all still looking over here,” Ginny observed. “Did you really shag Pansy Parkinson of all people?”

Not up to showing his face just yet, Harry nodded his head against his forearms.

Hermione gasped. “Harry, I can’t believe you. Do you even _like_ her? You and Ginny broke up only weeks ago. You’ve had two other girls already?”

Ginny tried to keep herself composed. “Hermione, he’s free to see anyone he wishes. Although I’m more than a bit surprised, he hasn’t done anything wrong. Not to me anyway.”

“Still,” Hermione frowned.

“Was she as good as her reputation?” Ron grinned.

Harry groaned again, and Hermione hit Ron rather hard on the back of his head.

“Ow! I wish you two would stop doing that.”

“Then stop saying stupid things!” Hermione retorted.

Harry swiftly got up to leave.

“Harry, wait. We’ll stop with the questions,” Hermione tried to convince him, but he walked out of the Great Hall without looking anyone in the eye and ran up to his room completely mortified. Why did Pansy have to do that? Why did he have to react so obviously to a simple wave? He buried his head in his pillow. Eventually, lack of sleep from the night before induced him into a deep slumber, during which he dreamt of walking into the Great Hall for supper, nude.

Meanwhile, Draco questioned Pansy after watching Harry slink guiltily out of supper.

“What was that about? Why would you wave to Potter like that?”

“Yeah, and why did he get so embarrassed?” Blaise chimed in.

“I was just being friendly. He was staring over here again, so I waved.” She smiled to herself as she picked up a spoonful of peas.

“Merlin’s beard, you fucked him, didn’t you?” Blaise laughed. “Going to make your way through Gryffindor this year, Pans?”

Pansy began to laugh along with Blaise until she saw the expression on Draco’s face. He was glaring at her in disbelief.

“Did you really?” he asked quietly.

“Well, _he_ started it.”

“What?” Draco looked hurt and confused. “But I was sure . . .” He gave Blaise a sideways glance. He did not want to say too much in front of him. Draco pushed his plate away and stood. “You’re such a slag!” he yelled at her and stormed out of the hall.

“Since when does he give a rat’s arse if you shag another bloke?” Blaise questioned.

“Since it’s the bloke he wanted for himself,” she answered shamefully.

Blaise’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows raised. “What?”

“At least, I think that’s what’s going on.” She leaned closer. “He told me he’s infatuated with someone. He didn’t say who, but he used the word, inappropriate.”

“You’re shitting me,” Blaise insisted.

Pansy simply shook her head slowly.

Hermione and the two gingers picked up on the commotion, their curiosity piqued.

“Lover’s spat?” Ron asked. “I guess he’s brassed off that she shagged Harry.”

Ginny shrugged. “Looks that way.”

Ron noticed Hermione with her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, luv? Don’t judge Harry. He of all people deserves a good time once in a while.” He glanced at Ginny who was scowling at him. “Not that you weren’t a good time. Ugh. I didn’t mean that. I’m gonna shut up now.” He shoved a bun into his mouth.

“You’re right. Harry does deserve some fun. I really shouldn’t be upset. I agreed to break up. And, well, Dean and I have sort of been seeing each other again since that last wand party.”

“I didn’t know that,” Ron said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, I was trying to spare Harry’s feelings. But it seems I didn’t need to bother.”

“Come on, Ron.” Hermione tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s go see if Harry’s all right. I have a feeling he needs to talk.”

He held Hermione’s arm. “I have a feeling he needs to be alone.”

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who nodded in agreement with Ron. She pouted as she sat back down, thinking perhaps they were right.

hdhdhd

Draco sat on his bed sulking since he stormed out of supper, when Pansy knocked on the door and let herself in. The other boys were congregating in the common room, getting ready for what was becoming the weekly party.

“Dra? Is it okay if I come in?”

“I don’t care.”

Pansy sat on the edge of Draco’s bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That Potter was the one you were talking about.”

“Was I that obvious?” Draco sighed.

“Honestly, when you said you had feelings for someone you shouldn’t, I thought it was Blaise.”

Draco made a face. “Blaise? He’s one of my best friends. That would be awkward.”

“Which is why I thought it was him. And you don’t think Harry is an odd choice?”

Draco sighed. “It’s not a choice. I can’t help it. I’ve been fighting it for a while now. But at that ridiculous party, he was so charming and personable and funny and _nice_. And his eyes. Have you ever noticed? They’re so . . .”

“Okay, I get the picture,” Pansy chuckled. “Yeah, he’s special, that one.”

He frowned. “Last weekend, he told me he thought I was handsome during the game. And he . . . well, you saw the position we were in the next morning. Sure, he was totally pissed and under a spell. But today, I swear, he was . . . flirting. When did you–you know what, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“Actually, you might.”

“No, I _really_ don’t.”

“Not even if he called me Malfoy?”

Eyes widening, Draco shoved Pansy’s shoulder. “He did _not_.”

“Yes, he did. He claimed it was only because I called him Potter, which apparently, only _you_ do. Oh, Dra, I wish I’d known. I wouldn’t have shagged him.”

“It doesn’t matter. He says he’s not even bent.”

“Are you certain? I think he’s just afraid to admit it. I’m sorry, luv. I have to go start the party. Are you all right?”

Draco nodded. “Go on. I’m not angry with you, Pans.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Nah. I’m not in a party mood. And I don’t think I want to watch Potter pick some bint’s wand and run off to fuck her too.”

“All right. But you know, you might not want to stay here. Someone may need the room.” She winked.

Rolling his eyes, Draco stood and grabbed a couple of things from his night table. “I guess I’ll be going then. By the way, did you know that you have to be holding your wand to make your request binding?”

“Hm, that explains why nothing happened to Looney Lovegood. MacMillan complained to me that she wouldn’t wank him, but she didn’t receive any punishment. Thanks, luv. It should get more interesting now.” She winked and walked out.

hdhdhd

“You all right?” Ron asked when he walked into his dormitory room. Harry was sitting on his bed, working on a paper he had been putting off.

Harry glanced up at Ron. “Yeah. It’s my own fault.” He shook his head. “Such reckless behavior. Then I didn’t even have the good sense to keep my mouth shut about it.”

“I didn’t exactly help there, did I?” Ron offered shamefully.

“No, you didn’t,” Harry scolded. “But I’m not angry with you, Ron. I don’t understand myself sometimes. I go and fool around with two girls I don’t really like. But I can’t even talk to the person I do like. At least, I _think_ I like . . .”

Ron waited anxiously for Harry to tell him who it was.

“It’s _not_ Parkinson. No offense, Ron, but I’m keeping that one to myself for a while.”

“I don’t blame you, mate. I wouldn’t tell me either,” Ron laughed. “So, are you going to that party?”

“No.”

“Um, are you gonna . . . hang out here . . . or . . . were you going somewhere?”

“Is that your not so subtle way of asking me to leave?”

Ron grinned. “Well, the other blokes are going to the party.”

Harry sighed heavily. “All right then. I can go out to the common room.” He picked up his book and parchment and walked out of the room. He passed Hermione on her way to the boys’ room. She blushed as Harry told her to have fun.

After less than an hour, Harry was finished his essay for Advanced Herbology. It took him much less time than he thought, and he was silently berating himself for putting it off. He looked around the empty common room, bored. Wishing that he had, in fact, gone to the party, Harry wondered whose wand Draco plucked from the cauldron. Would fate have brought them together again if Harry had gone? He figured he would never know.

He tried reading for a while, but his mind kept wandering. Mostly toward the soiree in Slytherin.

Sighing, Harry got up from the couch. Deciding to take a walk to pass the time while waiting for Hermione to leave their room, he glanced around the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. The Astronomy Tower was as good place as any to go on such an occasion. It seemed to be a clear night.

When he arrived at the top of the Tower, Harry took a moment to remember Dumbledore. Even though he now knew the truth of what happened, his death wasn’t any easier to take. Shaking those thoughts from his head, Harry gazed up at the sky. It was mostly clear, and Harry could make out several of the constellations he’d learned about over the years.

Approaching footsteps startled Harry and he quickly hid in a small niche.

He waited in silence until he saw Malfoy walk to the railing and look up. Stay hidden or reveal himself? Harry knew he had to decide quickly. Once he was hidden for too long, he’d have to stay that way until Malfoy left. He stepped out of the shadows and cleared his throat.

“Oh. I didn’t know anyone was here,” Draco turned to look at Harry. “Wait, you didn’t go to the party?”

“No. I guess you didn’t either,” Harry answered. “Why not? Afraid you might get my wand again?” He laughed.

Draco couldn’t help but join him. “Is that why you didn’t go?”

They both laughed, but neither one actually answered the question.

“So, what are you doing here?” Draco asked.

“Um, Ron and Hermione sort of took over my room. You?”

“I don’t know who’s in mine. Pansy made me leave,” Draco replied sheepishly.

Harry blushed at the mention of Pansy. If Draco saw, he spared Harry further embarrassment by not drawing attention to it.

It was then that Harry noticed the two items in Draco’s hands. A book and the one-third full bottle of firewhiskey.

“Do you drink every weekend?” Harry asked. “Is it a problem?”

Looking at the bottle, Draco chuckled. “Hardly. I’ve had this same bottle for over a year. Blaise gave it to me.” He laughed softly again. “Actually, I’ve only ever drank it with you. Care for some?” He held the bottle out to Harry.

Harry hesitated. “No glass?”

“I don’t have cooties, Potter. We’ve both already had our mouths on it, anyway.”

Feeling a strange twinge at the thought of both their mouths on the bottle of firewhiskey, Harry reached out for it. And he also didn’t want to appear to be a wuss. As Draco passed it, their fingers touched briefly. Harry looked away and quickly took a swig. He passed the bottle back to Draco, who also took a drink.

Pointing to Draco’s other hand, Harry inquired about the book. “What’s that you’re reading?”

Draco held it up for him to read.

“The Ministry of Magic: A Comprehensive Guide,” Harry read. “Well, that sounds exciting,” he said sarcastically. “It sounds like something Hermione would read.”

Laughing, Draco retorted, “Why? Does she enjoy boring books?”

“Why are you reading that?”

“I assume I’ll need to find work in the Ministry when I leave Hogwarts. I figured I’d better read up on my options.”

Harry nodded. “That’s smart. What are you interested in?” He reached out for the bottle once more. Draco handed it over.

“The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes sounds fun. Or if I really don’t want to work hard, maybe the Department of Magical Games and Sports,” Draco snickered, holding his hand out for the firewhiskey. He lowered himself to the ground and crossed his legs.

“I’d like to be an Auror.” Harry announced as he sat as well.

“Pff,” Draco scoffed.

“Sorry?” Harry was a bit indignant.

“Haven’t you had enough of chasing the bad guys?” Draco questioned.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing I suppose. But is that what you want? Or is it what you think people expect of you?” Draco swallowed more firewhiskey.

Harry was somewhat taken aback by Draco’s question. He sounded more than simply curious. He almost sounded angry.

“I . . . want to. It’s a noble and respectable profession.”

“You sound like an advertisement. Just because everyone says you’d make a good Auror, doesn’t mean to have to be one. What do you want to do?”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Why are you so interested anyway? What do you care?”

“Because you can do anything you want,” Draco reasoned. He said it with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. “Not everyone else can.”

“Are you talking about yourself?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“What can’t you do that you want to?”

“Are you serious Potter?” The Slytherin sighed. “I’m a marked man.” He held out his left arm and pushed the sleeve up. “Or have you forgotten? Nobody else has.”

“People will forget, in time,” Harry tried to assure him. He reached over and took the bottle from Draco’s grasp. After sipping some firewhiskey, Harry asked him, “So, what _do_ you want to do?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. “I should liked to have been a Potions Master at the Apothecary. But I doubt he would take on a former Death Eater as an apprentice. Or a Healer. There’s a fair bit of potion making in that.”

“And you can’t be a Healer?” Harry queried, handing Draco the rapidly emptying bottle.

“Ha, who would let _me_ heal them?” Draco asked rhetorically, then gulped the last of the firewhiskey.

“I would.” Harry shrugged.

Draco looked at Harry blankly. “What?”

“You just asked who would let you heal them. I said I would.”

“Oh. I wasn’t actually expecting an answer.” Draco paused. “You would?” he asked quietly.

“Sure,” Harry smiled. “You’re a great wizard. As much as I was loathe to admit it, I always knew that. I think you could do whatever you want.” He was feeling warm and relaxed, but only slightly buzzed.

Draco gazed at him, clearly more affected as he’d had more firewhiskey. He lingered, while Harry waited uncomfortably for him to say something.

Finally, Draco leaned forward slightly. “_Whatever_ I want?” he asked in a husky voice. He leaned back away but kept his gaze on Harry. “What do you _want_, Potter?”

Harry’s gaze lowered just a bit to Draco’s lips, being licked by his wet, pink tongue. “I, I’m not certain.”

Panicking, Harry abruptly stood up. 

“I should be going. I can probably get back into my room by now.” He crossed the room to get to the stairs.

Draco made two attempts to get up before staggering to his feet. Harry wondered if Draco had started drinking before he got to the Tower. Harry turned to leave.

“That’s it?” Draco questioned, seeming more sober than he had a moment ago.

“Sorry?” Harry cocked his head as he spun back around.

“All the hand touching, silly smiling, watching me when you think I don’t notice . . . you’re not even going to _try_ to make a pass at me? I gave you ample opportunity.”

Harry eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. For as subtle as Harry thought he had been, Draco picked up on everything. And now he was calling him on it.

“Uh,” was Harry’s only verbal response.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” Draco continued. “You did fuck Pansy after all.”

Closing his eyes, like a child does, thinking they can’t be seen, Harry waited for Malfoy to finish his thought. Mercifully, he didn’t bring up Harry’s huge faux pas. Instead, he asked Harry the question he had been asking himself for the past week.

“Do you have a real answer for my last question of the game? Are you bent?”

“Maybe,” Harry replied honestly.

Draco took a few strides toward Harry. “Maybe?”

Feeling as though Draco could look right into him to get the truth, Harry said, “Probably.”

One more step. “Just probably?”

Harry’s heart began to pound, and his palms sweat. He subconsciously rubbed them on his trousers.

Draco took one more step and stood a mere foot away, one eyebrow cocked. Harry could feel the blond’s soft breath on his face. He swallowed hard and loudly, never taking his eyes off Draco’s smoldering stare. He was beginning to feel warm and lightheaded.

“Yes,” Harry whispered. But desire gave into fear as Draco began to close the distance between their mouths and Harry took a half step back. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I . . . I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I’m sorry. It’s all too new.”

Draco straightened himself up and Harry waited for the insult or whatever method of saving his pride Draco was going to use.

“It’s all right. At least I got you to admit it,” Draco smirked.

Harry hung his head. He wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed. Maybe it was because, at eighteen, he should have had this figured out already. Or maybe it was because he basically came out for the first time to his Hogwarts nemesis. Former nemesis. Or possibly, it was the fact that he’d chickened out when the moment came.

“So, what now?” Harry finally asked, hoping Draco would have some brilliant insight. But he simply shrugged. “Do you think it’s chance that we keep ending up together every Friday night? Or something more?”

“You mean, like fate?” Draco questioned.

Harry nodded.

“I don’t know if I believe in fate. After all, there was a time I thought it was my fate to be a Death Eater and help the Dark Lord defeat you.”

“What if we didn’t leave it up to fate?” Harry quietly suggested.

“As in, _plan_ to meet?” Draco’s raised his eyebrows.

Harry shifted on his feet. “Well, yes. I confess I’ve been enjoying these unplanned Friday night conversations more than I have admitted to anyone else.” Harry felt vulnerable and swiftly gave Draco an out. “Unless you don’t want to. It was just a thought.”

“Next Friday night then?” the Slytherin proposed.

“Here, again? Same time?” Harry was encouraged.

The corner of Draco’s mouth rose, giving him the appearance of a boy just handed all the goodies off the Hogwarts Express tea trolley. Harry thought either that, or a Hungarian Horntail about to devour him.

“It’s a date,” Draco said, and walked past Harry out of the Astronomy Tower. 


	8. don't ask, don't tell

October 23 1998

Harry practically skipped all the way back to Gryffindor from the Astronomy Tower. When he arrived, Ron and Hermione, along with a few others were in the common room.

“Oi, Harry. Where’ve you been?” Ron asked, in an obvious cheerful mood.

“Walking around,” Harry shrugged, trying to appear casual. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face, though.

“Walking around, eh?” Ron repeated suspiciously. “Did you happen to run into someone, by any chance?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Harry replied. 

“And?” Ron encouraged. 

“And nothing,” Harry shrugged, still smiling widely.

“Nothing is why you’re grinning like an idiot?”

“We talked.” Catching the look exchanged between his two best friends, Harry continued. “That’s all we did. It was really nice. We just talked. And maybe shared a bit of firewhiskey. But I’m not drunk,” he quickly added.

“Just to clarify, this is the same girl from Potions?” Ron asked.

“What girl in Potions?” Hermione questioned.

“Harry likes someone in Potions class, but won’t tell me who,” Ron explained.

“And you wonder why?” Hermione snickered. “What if he wanted that to be a secret?”

“Pfft,” Ron waved her off. “Come on, he tells you more than he tells me.” Unfortunately for Ron, he was correct. “So, is it?”

“Yes, it’s the same person from Potions. Can we drop it now? I’d like to go to bed, now that my room is free.”

Hermione blushed and Ron gave out a small, shameful giggle.

“You’re still going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, right? Better get to sleep.” Harry called as he seemed to glide toward his dormitory.

“Yeah,” Ron called. “Be right there.” He gave Hermione a last kiss and wished her sweet dreams.

Something about their chat was off, but Hermione couldn’t put her finger on it. “Ron, I know you’re curious, but maybe you should just let Harry have his secrets for a while. He’ll share them when he’s ready.”

“I only want to help.”

“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “But sometimes, timing is everything.”

hdhdhd

October 23 1998 continued

“So,” Neville began after taking a large gulp of butter beer. “You and Tracey Davis? What’s she like?”

“Not what I expected,” Anthony answered. “At first she sort of ordered me around. But when I was nice to her, she was nice back. And the next thing I knew, she was asking me to shag her.”

“Those Slytherin girls sure move fast, don’t they?” Neville giggled. He finished his butter beer and placed the bottle next to the last one he drank.

“Oh, yeah, you got Pansy that first party.”

“Actually, she picked me,” Neville corrected.

“I’ll bet she was wicked,” Anthony grinned. “What did she have you do?”

Neville tried to suppress his smile. “Everything, mate. I did things I’d never done before. Not that that’s really saying much.”

“Want to try something else I bet you’ve never done before?” Anthony asked, then upended his bottle, emptying it.

“Like what?” Neville questioned, curious.

Anthony, sitting across from Neville on the floor of the Ravenclaw common room, leaned forward.

“Whoa, what’re you doing?” Neville leaned back out of the way.

“Just trying something new,” Anthony replied casually.

“I don’t want to try _that_. No offense,” Neville offered. “Do you fancy boys? I thought you said you liked Tracey.”

Grinning, Anthony told him, “I do like Tracey. I was just seeing if you were a ponce.”

“A ponce? You think I like boys?”

“Oh. You’re insulted. I guess not, then.”

“Definitely not. Why do you ask?”

Shrugging, Anthony told him, “Some people think you’re a bender.”

“I’m just shy around girls is all,” Neville explained. 

“You shouldn’t be. You’re not bad lookin’. Straighten your teeth out and get a decent haircut and you’d be all right. Plus, you killed that huge bloody snake! You’re a regular hero.”

“You think?”

“Damn straight. So, tell me then, is there a particular girl you’re shy around?” Anthony prodded.

Blushing with a small smile on his face, Neville confessed, “Luna. She’s beautiful.”

“Looney Lovegood? You fancy her?” Anthony chuckled.

“Don’t call her that,” Neville frowned.

“Sorry. So what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know,” Neville shrugged. “I don’t have much experience. I’ve never asked a girl out. Although I did manage to find the nerve to ask Ginny to the Yule Ball fourth year.”

Anthony clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’d say you’ve got some experience now. Go for it.”

Neville picked up another butter beer. “Maybe I will.” He downed half the bottle in one chug. “Are my teeth really that bad?”

hdhdhd

Parvati sat on Harper’s bed, a look of utter confusion on her face.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll see,” Harper pleaded.

Parvati opened her mouth to say something, but found she was speechless.

“These hands can work miracles, let me tell you,” he assured her. “I’ll make you feel beautiful. Just give me a chance.”

“And you’ve done this before?”

“Yes, loads of times. I’m _good_. When I get through with you, you won’t want to go to anyone else. Please?” Harper begged.

“Well . . .”

“I could force you, you know,” he reminded her. “But I’d rather have you as a willing participant.”

She sighed. “All right. But if I don’t like it, you’ll undo it, right?”

“Oh, you’ll like it,” he promised. “But, yes, I’ll undo it if you don’t. Is that a yes?”

Sighing again, Parvati gave her consent.

He clapped and bounced up and down on the bed. “Brilliant. Come with me.” He held out his hand to Parvati, who took it. Harper led her into the toilet he shared with his roommates and closed the lid.

“Have a seat.” He was practically squirming in his pants. “You may want to take your shirt off for this.” He handed her a towel. “Wrap this around your shoulders.”

Knowing Harper was homosexual, Parvati had no problem undressing in front of him. She removed her shirt and wrapped the towel as instructed.

“Not too short. I’ve always had long hair,” she warned him as he began to comb her lengthy black tresses. 

“Is it an Indian thing? The long hair. Are you supposed to keep it long or something?” he asked.

“It’s traditional. And Indian women _do_ have the most beautiful hair in the world,” she giggled.

“It’s gorgeous,” Harper agreed as he pawed it sensuously.

Parvati closed her eyes as Harper made the first cut, almost at her shoulders. “My mother is going to kill me,” she muttered.

hdhdhd

October 24 1998

By eight o’clock the following morning, the wand charm had been lifted and students began making their way back to their own dormitories.

Padma sat up on the floor in the Slytherin common room, where she had spent the night playing cards and gossiping with Millicent.

“My back is killing me,” she stretched and yawned. “I need to remember to bring pillows or something next time.”

“You’re going to do the next party?” Millicent asked.

Padma shrugged. “Why, aren’t you?”

“This whole thing has been a bust. I got stuck with Finch-Fletchley twice, and you. No offense.”

“Right. Why would I be offended,” Padma said sarcastically.

“No, last night was sort of fun. But the point of the parties is to hook up, yeah? I haven’t hooked up once yet.”

“I see your point.” Padma sympathized. Although she’d gotten girls for the last two rounds, she did have an amazing night with Theo to start off. “Holy shit, what did you do?” Padma’s attention was diverted by her sister walking out of the boy’s dormitory.

“Do you like it?” Parvati asked, spinning around and running her hands through her now, much shorter hair.

“It’s so short,” Padma complained. “But I love it.” She pulled her sister’s face close and examined it. “Did you do your eyebrows too?”

“Harper did it all. You like it? He’s amazing,” Parvati sighed.

Harper stood grinning, quite proud of himself. “I told you,” he sang.

“Do me, do me,” Padma begged.

“You’ll have to choose my wand next week then,” he winked.

Just then, Michael walked into the common room after having spent the night with Pansy. His mouth gaped and his eyes widened at the sight of Parvati.

“Wow,” he whispered to himself as he stared.

Catching his eye, Parvati smiled back at him. Her smiled faded when Pansy sidled up to Michael.

“Thanks, Michael darling. It was a lovely night,” Pansy said, grinning.

He looked at her blankly.

“See you all in Hogsmeade,” Pansy called, and headed for the bath.

“I’ve got to be going. Thanks again Harper,” Parvati said and quickly left the room. Padma followed after her.

“What was that all about?” she asked her sister.

“Nothing.” Parvati remained tight lipped.

“Was it Pansy and Michael?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Parvati, please. Talk to me.” Padma pleaded.

“I should have realized it was just a game,” Parvati explained. “But Michael and I got each other’s wands twice. I thought that meant something more than it did, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, sis.” Padma smiled. “If he’s too stupid to know what he’s missing, forget about him. But on the other hand, you look fabulous. Let’s go flaunt you in Hogsmeade.”

“Breakfast first. I’m starving. We can shower after.”

Padma linked her arm through her sister’s and the pair walked to the Great Hall to join their classmates for the first meal of the day. They parted ways and headed to their houses, where Parvati was showered with compliments and a much needed ego boost.

hdhdhd

“I’ve named every girl in the bloody class, Harry. And you haven’t even given a tiny twitch at the mention of any of them,” Ron complained. He figured Harry would have some reaction to the name of the girl with whom he had met up with the previous night. But he had gone through the roster of girls names and nothing. “You’re too good at game face for me,” Ron pouted.

“You’re talking to the man who out poker-faced Voldemort, Ron. What do you expect?” Hermione chuckled.

“It’s driving me crazy. I just want to figure it out,” Ron said.

“Figure what out?” Ginny asked as she sat down next to Harry with Dean on her other side.

“Harry met with someone last night,” Ron blurted out.

Hermione swatted him on the back of the head and Harry glared.

“And you wonder why I don’t want to tell you things,” Harry remarked.

“Oops,” Ron was shamefaced, but not enough to keep quiet. “I was trying to figure out who she is, but he won’t tell.” He glanced at a scowling Hermione. “What? They know already. What’s the harm in talking now?”

“_Another_ someone? You’ve been quite busy.” Ginny immediately felt sorry for the snide remark.

“Keeping mum about it, Harry? Smart idea around here,” Dean sympathized. “False rumors led to half of our arguments the last time Ginny and I were together.” They gazed at each other and smiled. “That won’t happen this time.”

“I swear, I won’t tell anybody. Else. You can even charm me to keep quiet about it. I just want to know who it is,” Ron made another appeal.

“We’ll see,” Harry said. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to change my shirt before we go to Hogsmeade.” He tugged at the collar. “This one is getting too small or something.”

Ginny leaned over and inspected his collar. “You’ve got in on backwards, silly. Boy, this girl must really have you in a tizzy. You can’t even dress yourself properly,” she giggled.

Blushing lightly, Harry stood. “I’ll meet you all out front, I’m going to fix myself. And no one has me in a tizzy. It’s just a simple mistake.” Harry strode out of the hall while the others watched and snickered.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Hermione said. “You should have seen him talking last night,” she smiled widely. “He’s definitely smitten. I’ haven’t seen him so . . .” she trailed off, letting her smile fade.

“So, what?” Ginny prodded.

“I’m sorry, Gin. I was being insensitive.”

“Mione, Harry and I broke up over three weeks ago. I’m with Dean now. If there was ever a person who deserved to be happy, it’s Harry. I just hope this girl is better than Daphne or Pansy.”

Hermione’s conversations with Harry in the library and last night kept creeping into her thoughts. She realized that Harry never actually referred to his crush as she or her. In fact, she recalled him saying _person_ instead of girl.

“He’s not happy yet,” Hermione pointed out. “We don’t know if this person likes him.” She found herself referring to the object of Harry’s affections the same way.

“Well, who wouldn’t like Harry?” Ron questioned.

“Yeah, he’s . . . Harry.” Dean was of the same opinion.

Although Hermione agreed with them both, she had an odd feeling about the whole situation. Her gaze subconsciously traveled to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was talking and smiling with Pansy and Blaise, and some other boy she didn’t know. Hermione had to admit, Malfoy was rather handsome. Harry was right about that. Could it possibly be? Was there any chance the blond thought the same of Harry?


	9. smells like teen spirit, or lust

October 24 1998

“Have you gotten everything on your list yet, Mione? I’m getting hungry,” Ron complained.

“One more stop,” she answered. “Dervish & Banges.”

“What do you need there?” Harry asked.

“Everlasting candles.” She pulled Ron’s sleeve and directed him toward the shop. Harry followed behind, sniggering, glad he didn’t have someone tugging at him and ordering him around.

The three split up when they entered the shop. Hermione made a bee line for the candle section, while Harry looked at some of the newer items at the front of the shop. Ron wandered a small section of jewelry. He was surprised to find Draco Malfoy scrutinizing several items, including the amulets that Ron himself was looking over. Draco was carrying a bag from Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop as well as a small bag from Honeydukes. Ron tried to sneak away before Malfoy saw him but was too late.

“Buying something for your girlfriend?” Malfoy queried condescendingly. He knew the items in question were most likely out of Ron’s price range. Regretting the jab, he offered Ron some advice. 

“You know, the second-hand robe shop in Diagon Alley sells amulets similar to these.”

Ron snorted, “I don’t need to buy Hermione second-hand jewelry. I worked at George’s shop over the summer. I have money.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Granger just seems the sort to appreciate items with history rather than something shiny and new.” He began to walk away. “Whatever.”

“Wait,” Ron couldn’t believe he was actually going to try and have a real conversation with Malfoy. “She probably would. The second-hand shop, you said?”

“Yes. I once found an enchanted quill there. The shop manager thought it was defective because it didn’t write what he dictated. Instead, it told the story of the previous owner, in poetry. My mother adored it.”

“Then what are you looking at these for?” Curiosity always got the best of Ron.

Draco chortled. “Because Pansy _is_ the sort to like shiny and new, and her birthday is coming up.”

Harry rounded the corner, catching sight of Ron talking to Draco of all people. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, and he suddenly wished he bought an extendable ear. Their discussion was over as quickly as it started, and Harry stayed hidden until Draco was completely out of sight.

“So what was that all about?” Harry tried to sound casual. “You and Malfoy being civil?” he joked.

“As a matter of fact, he was trying to help me, I think. Well, at first he insulted me. But now I know where to go to get Mione’s Christmas present.”

“You’re thinking of Christmas already? It’s not even November yet.”

“I want to get her something really special. Believe it or not, Malfoy gave me a great idea,” Ron admitted.

“Brilliant, then,” Harry smiled. “I guess he’s not so bad after all?” he hedged, in an attempt to gauge Ron’s opinion.

“Maybe not _so_ bad.”

Trying to hide his gratification, Harry suggested they find Hermione and go to the Three Broomsticks for lunch.

hdhdhd

The Golden Trio sat in the Three Broomsticks enjoying a spread of fish and chips and chicken in a basket. Harry decided to forgo the butter beer and opted instead for lemonade. Hermione showed the boys her purchases while they talked and ate.

“Blimey, those are expensive,” Ron commented, looking over Hermione’s bill. “They’re just bloody candles.”

“No, Ron, they’re not just bloody candles. They’re _everlasting_ candles. Which means I won’t have to buy more. Ever. So, in actuality, they’re a great value, in the long run.”

“I suppose,” Ron conceded.

Harry glanced up to see Draco walking into the pub with Pansy, Blaise and Harper, whom he presumed to be Blaise’s new boyfriend, since they were holding hands. His and Draco’s eyes met briefly, and Draco nodded.

“Harry.” Hermione said loudly.

“What? Why are you yelling?”

“Because you didn’t answer the first two times I called your name.”

Shaking his head, Harry apologized. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I wanted to know if you would come to Diagon Alley with me next weekend?” Ron told him.

“Next weekend?” Harry thought. “Next weekend is Halloween.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Hermione said excitedly. “I almost forgot about the masquerade party. It’s Saturday night.”

“Okay, then let’s go Sunday,” Ron suggested.

“All right,” Harry agreed. “Are you two going to the masquerade?”

“Yes, aren’t you?”

“We are?” Ron asked.

“Yes, we are.”

Harry scratched his head. “I don’t know. It seems like a couples sort of thing.”

“Why don’t you ask the girl from Potions to go with you?” Ron grinned.

“You just want to know who it is,” Harry nudged Ron in the side.

“Everyone will be disguised,” Hermione reminded them. “No one will know who you’re dancing with. But I think most students are going with friends rather than as couples.”

“Aw, Mione, why’d you have to go and tell him that? We could have found out.”

Harry thought about what Hermione said. If he and Draco were disguised well enough, no one would know who either of them were. They could go together without any consequences. But Harry was getting ahead of himself. He wanted to see how Friday night went before he brought up a dance.

“Oi, Harry,” Ron said in a low voice. “Don’t look now, but Malfoy’s staring over here.”

“What?” Harry immediately looked over at Draco’s table despite Ron’s warning.

Having been caught, Draco swiftly turned his attention to Pansy.

“Do you think he’s still sore that you hooked up with his girl? You might want to watch your back.”

A short time later, Hermione watched Harry as he glanced over across the pub. The corners of his mouth raised ever so faintly into an almost imperceptible smile. When she turned her head to follow his line of sight, she noticed Draco look back at him. Not with malice as Ron had suggested, but with something Hermione couldn’t quite put her finger on. But if she was forced to put words to it, the one that came to mind, was longing.

hdhdhd

October 30 1998

All that following week, Hermione had paid special attention to Harry and Draco’s interactions. At times, they seemed to completely ignore one another, which made her doubt her earlier observations. Other times, they appeared to go out of their way to be near each other. Sometimes passing each other closely in the corridor or walking behind the other’s chair in class when there was clearly an easier route to take. It wasn’t until Potions class on Friday that Hermione finally was able to confirm her suspicions.

For the past several weeks, Ron and Harry had been lab partners and Hermione usually paired up with Ginny. Harry walked into class just a step behind Hermione.

“Mione, why don’t you partner up with Ron today? I feel badly always taking him away from you.”

“But I like having Ginny as my partner.” She lowered her voice a bit. “She’s better at potions than Ron,” Hermione confessed.

“He’s gotten much better this year,” Harry smiled.

Sensing that Harry had a reason for wanting to switch, she agreed and sat down next to Ron. Harry waited for someone else to sit next to Ginny, as he knew someone would. She was very good in potions. As soon as Hannah Abbott took the seat next to Ginny, Harry turned and pretended to look around for a partner.

As casually as he could, Harry walked to Draco’s table, which was one row in front and to the right of Hermione and Ron’s table.

“Looks like Zabini’s not here. Mind if I sit? Ron’s partnering with Hermione today.” Inside, Harry was a bowl of jelly. Was he being too obvious? He was screwed for partners if Draco turned him down for appearances sake.

Draco glanced at the door. No sign of Blaise. “Yeah, all right. You’re not bad at potions, right?”

“Not too bad. I haven’t won any challenges since sixth year, though.”

As Slughorn stood and opened his mouth to address the class, Blaise came running in, out of breath.

“You’re late Mr. Zabini. Ten points from Slytherin. Take a seat.”

Blaise’s posture slumped when he saw Harry in his seat.

“Move it Potter.”

Harry looked up and smirked. “No thanks.”

“Oi, that’s my place.”

“Not today Mr. Zabini,” Slughorn advised. “Next time don’t be late. It appears that Miss Brocklehurst needs a partner.”

Blaise shot Harry a dirty look and reluctantly went to sit with Mandy.

“Page one hundred ninety-seven,” Slughorn announced. The sound of turning pages filled the room.

“We’re making Amortentia?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Yes, Miss Granger.”

“But why? It’s a completely pointless potion,” she complained, earning glares from many girls in the class.

“Because, Miss Granger, it’s always good to know all sorts of potions. You never know when this one might come in handy. Plus, you should be able to recognize it should someone try to slip it to you.” He winked. “As you all know, this potion smells differently to everyone. So after you make yours correctly, I’d like you to go around the room and test out one another’s finished products. Every potion should smell the same to you. If it doesn’t, something is amiss with the potion.” Slughorn smiled. “I rather like this one. I’m always curious as to what other people smell.”

Hermione continued to grumble while the class began. She had almost forgot that she meant to observe Harry and Draco during class. She noticed that when Draco went to retrieve ingredients, he gently placed a hand on Harry’s back as he walked by. To the casual eye, it merely looked like Draco was trying to fit between Harry and the table behind him. But when the hand lingered for a moment, Hermione made note.

“Now, class, take care dropping the ashwinder egg in,” Slughorn warned. “If the yolk sac breaks before it cooks, your potion may be ruined. And don’t actually stir it. Gently wave your wand over it to get the current going.”

“Fuck!” Michael Corner accidentally yelled out. _Wand_ had been Michael’s trigger word all week and by Friday afternoon, he’d had enough boners to last a lifetime.

“Mr. Corner?” Slughorn scowled. “Ten points from Ravenclaw. And I’ll thank you not to curse in my class again.”

“Yes sir,” Michael answered. “May I be excused for a moment? I need to use the toilet.”

A few snickers could be heard throughout the room.

“Is your potion finished?”

“No, sir. We just have to put the egg in,” Michael was clearly struggling to sit still.

“Finish the potion then you may be excused,” the Professor told him.

Shortly thereafter, Harry seemed to be leaning just a bit further than necessary as he watched Draco add the frozen ashwinder egg. As soon as the egg dropped in, Draco turned to look at Harry. Hermione spotted the blond briefly lick his lips.

As the last of the potions were finished, the very last being Blaise and Mandy’s, students began walking around the room to sniff the others. Michael hurried quickly out of the room.

Hermione noticed that since she and Ron had officially gotten together, the potion smelled slightly different to her. No longer did she smell mint toothpaste, but the honeysuckle from the first bouquet of flowers he brought her. She smiled sweetly at the memory.

Harry and Draco both leaned over their newly completed potion and breathed in. Harry laughed at the scent.

“What’s so funny?” Draco asked. “What do you smell?”

Harry blushed, much to his horror, and tried evading the question. Draco, however, didn’t let up.

“Am I going to have to guess what it smells like to you, or are you going to tell me?” He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, Potter,” he said suggestively, which only made Harry blush once more.

“All right.” Harry sighed. “It smells like . . . lemons, and new fallen snow.”

“Is that all?” Draco prodded.

“And . . .the Quidditch locker room,” Harry muttered quickly.

“Really?” A large grin spread across Draco’s face before he realized he was doing it. He caught Hermione watching him and composed himself.

“Well, what does it smell like to you?” Harry asked him.

“Strawberries, lavender and cedar,” he answered. Glancing quickly at Hermione, Draco added, “We’d better make the rounds like everyone else.”

Harry approached Ron and Hermione’s potion and sniffed with the same results as his own. All around the room, students inhaled deeply and critiqued one another’s concoctions. For the most part, they were successful. Some were stronger than other. Harry could scarcely smell anything from Blaise and Mandy’s.

Ron and Harry met up in front of Seamus and Neville’s cauldron.

“So, what’s it smell like to you?” Ron asked.

“Uh, snow, lemons and, um, ginger,” he made up on the spot, inspired by Ron’s hair. He wasn’t about to admit that one of the scents that attracted him was the boy’s locker room. He never even thought about it before, but now that he did, he became aware that he rather liked the locker room. Especially filled with sweaty boys. He could feel his face get warm again and silently cursed himself.

“At least you know what to look for now if anyone tries to slip you another love potion,” Ron laughed.

“What about you?”

“Oh, heh heh,” Ron laughed, embarrassed. “I smell cherry lipgloss, and some kind of flowery shampoo and stuff.”

“What do you mean stuff? What’s the other thing. Everyone else smells three things,” Harry pressed.

Ron shut his mouth tight and shook his head.

“Come on Ron, what else?”

“Don’t make me say it, mate. You’ll regret knowing, believe me.”

“What did you tell Hermione?”

“I told her I smelled candle wax. She seemed to like that.”

“All right,” Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “But what did you really smell?”

Ron appeared genuinely distraught. 

“Ron, what is it?” Harry was a bit concerned at this point.

“Oh, fuck it all,” Ron grumbled. He bent down lower to Harry so no one else would hear. “It smells like Hermione’s snatch. And if I have to sniff one more fucking cauldron, I’m gonna cream my pants.”

Harry’s eyes widened, then he laughed hysterically, garnering attention from the other students.

“I’m so sorry, Ron. I shouldn’t have laughed.” But Harry did continue to laugh. “I think you ought to tell Hermione. Later, I mean. She’ll probably appreciate that very much. Maybe help you out there.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot, mate,” Ron pushed Harry’s shoulder playfully. “By the way, I’m kicking you out of the room tonight again for that.” 

Harry shrugged. “I deserve that. But it was so worth it.”

hdhdhd

The closer the time drew to ten o’clock, the more anxious Harry became. He had asked the house elves earlier in the week if they would put together a small picnic snack for him and Draco for their ‘date’. Harry still wasn’t sure if Draco meant that literally, but he didn’t want to show up empty handed. At half-nine, Harry was about to go down to the kitchens to retrieve the food and ask if strawberries could be added last minute.

“Where are you off to, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, uh, just out for a walk.”

“A walk, eh? Anywhere in particular?” she inquired.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Not really.”

“Meeting someone, perhaps?” she smiled knowingly.

“What makes you say that?” Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot and glanced at the mantle clock.

“You seem nervous,” Hermione observed. She took Harry by the arm and led him to a corner of the common room.

“Mione, can’t I just keep something to myself for once?”

“I won’t tell anyone, Harry. I’ll even cover for you with Ron. You’re meeting someone, aren’t you?”

Harry glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “Okay, yes.”

“Is it the same person from last Friday night?”

He nodded.

“Is it a boy?”

“What? Why would you think that?” Harry was always shocked at Hermione’s insight. He shouldn’t be after all this time, but he still was.

“Because you said _this person_ instead of _her_. If it was a girl, wouldn’t you have simply said _her_?”

Harry closed his eyes. “Fine. Okay? It’s a boy. Are you happy?”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Are you afraid Ron won’t understand?”

“Of course I’m bloody afraid Ron won’t understand.” Harry noticed that Hermione didn’t really even flinch when he told her his date was with another boy. “You don’t seem surprised though.”

“Considering our conversation in the library, no, I’m not surprised.” She paused, hoping he would confide further in her. “Are you going to make me speculate? Because you know who my first guess will be.”

Harry stood silent, deciding whether or not to tell her, even though he knew she’d figured it out already.

Hermione lost patience. “Is it–”

“Don’t say it out loud,” Harry begged. “It’s who you think it is. Turns out, he didn’t mind me watching him. Do you think anybody else knows?”

“I doubt it. Unless you told someone else what you said to him during that party. I was carefully watching the two of you in class today.”

Harry closed his eyes and cringed. “And?”

“And if this is what makes you happy, I’m happy for you.”

His eyes popped open in surprise. “You’re not going to tell me I’m bonkers?”

“Not any more bonkers than I am for being with Ron,” she laughed. It made him laugh too. “But Harry, if anything comes of this, you’d better tell Ron yourself. Don’t let him find out through rumor and innuendo.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But I want to see what happens tonight first. This could be one big joke on me, for all I know.” He sighed. “That would be awful.”

They paused, each thinking about the potential for humiliation.

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“A month ago, I wouldn’t have even considered meeting a boy, much less _him_. And now, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

Hermione smiled softly. “For what it’s worth, I think it may be mutual.”


	10. date night

October 30 1998

Harry arrived seven minutes before ten o’clock in the Astronomy Tower, but Draco was already there. He was leaning against the railing, looking up at the cloudy sky. There was a bottle and a small wrapped package on the floor next to him. Harry took a moment to admire his form from behind. The tall, lean blond wore dark jeans and a silk navy button up shirt. The night was a bit chilly and Harry had wished he wore long sleeves as Draco had. He’d have to remember to cast a warming charm, once he set up their treats.

“No stars tonight,” Draco said without turning around.

Harry stood awkwardly wondering if he should just unpack the basket he was holding or if he should walk over to the railing to join Draco. He opted to unpack the snack.

Spreading a thick blanket on the floor near the wall, Harry sat down and began taking items out of the basket. The house elves prepared a variety of breads and cheeses and pudding and fruits, including the strawberries Harry asked for last minute. The house elves would have done anything for Harry. And though, normally he wouldn’t take advantage, he was desperate for this evening to go well.

Doubts still invaded Harry’s thoughts as he placed treacle tart, lemon posset and Scottish shortbread down on the blanket. He glanced up at Draco every so often, but the other man hadn’t moved or said anything else. In Harry’s imagination of the worst, Draco was going to tell him it was all a big misunderstanding. Or worse, a trick to make a fool of Harry for anything he’d done to Draco over the years. Or perhaps he’d simply changed his mind and he wasn’t sure how to let Harry down easy.

Harry sighed softly when he was finished his task and waited patiently for Draco to do something–anything.

Finally, Draco bent down to pick up the bottle and package and walked to Harry.

“What’s all this then?”

“I didn’t want to show up empty handed,” Harry replied.

Draco smirked and sat down, across from Harry with the spread between them. It was somewhat dark in the Tower, so Harry peeked into the basket. He didn’t ask for them, but he thought he had seen candles inside. He took out a fat one with two wicks and put it on the stone floor, away from the flammable blanket.

“Incendio.” The candle came to life, illuminating the scene and Draco’s face. Softly revealed by candlelight, Draco was a vision. Part angel, part libertine.

“Shall I ask the first question?” Draco put forward.

Harry liked this game. It kept the conversation moving and no subject seemed to be taboo. He relaxed a bit at Draco’s suggestion, and nodded his approval.

“Can I kiss you now?”

The butterflies that were gently fluttering inside suddenly turned to bats. Immediately, Harry’s heart rate increased. So much so that he was afraid Draco could hear it from where he sat. The question of Draco’s intentions now answered, Harry was actually more tense than he had been before. In his mind, the evening was to progress slowly to this point, and he was completely taken off guard.

“You see, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I’m afraid I’ll be wishing for the end of the evening just to get to that part,” Draco explained. “But I don’t want to rush through.”

It made sense. Get the kiss over with so they could concentrate on the rest of the evening. Harry nodded.

“All right,” he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes?” Draco appeared genuinely surprised. The last time he tried kiss Harry, he wasn’t ready. Draco crawled around the food and sat next to Harry. He found he was rather nervous himself.

Harry was more apprehensive than he had been before his very first kiss ever. He closed his eyes and waited for Draco to make contact. When his soft, full lips touched Harry’s, it felt to Harry as if he were shocked by an electrical outlet. It had happened to him a few times at the Dursley’s and it sent a not altogether unpleasant buzzing throughout his body. Kissing Draco gave him a similar sensation.

It only lasted a few seconds, and Draco had barely parted his lips, but it was one of the sweetest kisses Harry tasted. They parted and leaned back slightly to assess the other’s reaction.

Leaning forward once more, Harry captured Draco’s mouth this time. Again, it was relatively short, lips just hardly open. Not even worthy of the word snog. But it was enough to get the curiosity out of their systems.

Draco crawled back over to the other side and popped a strawberry in his mouth. Harry knew he must have had the most ridiculous expression on his face but didn’t care much. Draco was grinning at him, looking slightly loopy himself. Harry decided it was his turn to ask a question.

“So, do your friends know you’re here?” Harry picked up a piece of cheese, sniffed it, then discarded it because he was thought it might give him bad breath. Instead, he pulled a small clump of grapes and began eating them.

“No. They’re too busy with their party. What about your friends?”

“Hermione knows.”

“You told Granger?” Draco sat up a bit straighter. “Fuck, what did she say?”

“I didn’t tell her. She figured it out,” Harry said. “Well, I did tell her about what I said to you at that second wand party. But she’s very observant. I think I totally gave it away in Potions, though,” Harry laughed. “I guess it was pretty obvious. To her, anyway.” 

“And you came anyway?”

Harry gave him a questioning look.

“I’m sure she gave you the whole ‘he’s evil, stay away from him’ speech.”

“Not at all,” Harry told him. “She was really very supportive. Of all of it. Ron’s going to be a different story,” Harry laughed, but he wasn’t at all looking forward to that conversation.

“What do you think Pansy will say? Or Blaise?” Harry questioned.

“Oh, Pansy knows. She just doesn’t know specifically about tonight. I’m fairly certain she told Blaise. But he hasn’t brought it up.”

“I’m sorry I shagged her.” Harry regretted bringing it up, but he did want to apologize.

“I didn’t have any claim on you, or her. Especially at that time. I couldn’t justify being angry with either one of you when I could scarcely admit to myself that I fancied you.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Harry empathized.

With a look that could pin Harry in place, Draco addressed the subject Harry hoped would never come up.

“Did you really call Pansy by my name?”

Even in the candlelight, Harry’s blush was evident. Those fucking bats were back.

“Uh, huh,” Harry muttered. There was no going back. His intentions toward Draco were verbalized. He had been thinking of Draco in the throes of passion and there was no other explanation. Harry was, at the very least, _thinking_ about shagging Draco. And Draco knew it.

Up to that point, they could pretend it was all rather innocent. Even the kisses. They could be considered experimental. A curiosity.

Thankfully, Draco changed the subject.

“Did you do something to make Blaise late for class today?”

Harry smiled. “I managed to start a rumor that McGonagall wanted to see him before class.”

“But McGonagall was out of school today.”

“Yeah, that was pretty clever, huh?” Harry said. “By the time he realized it, he was late for class and I already took his seat. Sorry about the ten points.”

Draco nodded. “Not bad. Fairly Slytherin of you.”

The pair continued to nibble at the miniature feast before them as they talked. Every so often a breeze blew through the Tower, causing the candle to flicker. Harry had begun to get a little chilly and cast a light warming spell on them. After a short time, Draco, who had dressed properly for the occasion, was too warm, and rolled up his sleeves. Subconsciously, as he went on about how much he disliked the new Dark Arts professor, Draco unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt. In the dim light, his navy shirt bloused open revealing his starkly contrasted pale chest, distracting Harry from the conversation.

“What.” Draco furrowed his brow.

“Huh?” Harry was pulled from his musings.

“You weren’t listening,” Draco accused.

“I was. Your, um . . .” he half gestured to Draco’s shirt, about to explain his distraction. “Never mind. Sorry. Drink? I’ve brought pumpkin juice.”

Harry reached into the basket and pulled out two glasses and a small bottle of pumpkin juice.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Draco said, stretching behind him. “I brought wine. And this.” He held out the package Harry spotted earlier.

“I think I’ll skip the alcohol, thanks. But what’s this?” he asked Draco as he accepted it.

“It’s not a big deal. Just something I thought you could use. Open it.” Draco made himself comfortable as he watched Harry. Leaning on one elbow, he lay on his side and stretched out his legs.

Harry took off the wrappings and found a journal inside a box with a simple, but elegant quill.

“A journal?” Harry was puzzled.

“Yes, but it’s special.” Draco smiled. “It’s a Verity Journal.”

“Oh. How is it different from any other journal?” Harry wondered why anyone would not write the truth down in their own diary. Weren’t all diaries essentially the truth? Or the writer’s version of it.

“It won’t record anything but the absolute truth. For instance, if you wrote something, say, that you arrived here tonight at midnight. But you were really here just before ten. The journal corrects what you’ve written.”

“But why would I, or anyone, write down something that wasn’t true in their journal?”

“Sometimes people aren’t always certain what the truth is. People lie to themselves all the time,” Draco explained. “This journal is not for the faint of heart. It will be brutally honest with you. You may learn things about yourself you don’t want to admit, so take care in what you write.”

“Why give it to me?” Harry smirked. “Do you think I lie to myself?”

Shaking his head, Draco answered, “No. But I think you don’t want to admit that what everyone expects of you isn’t what you really want out of life. For yourself. I thought this might help.”

Harry was touched. Most people were supportive of his decision to become an Auror. It was almost a certainty, given who he was. But deep within himself, he wasn’t sure of his motives. Draco had questioned them the night they first met in the Astronomy Tower. There were many decisions and paths Harry was taking because he thought he was supposed to. Draco had caused him to question them all.

“Thank you,” Harry smiled. 

“But you must use that quill,” Draco warned him. “It’s the combination that does the trick. It’s simply a journal with a regular quill.”

Wanting to thank him with more than words, Harry debated his actions too long and the moment passed. He cleared his throat and took a drink of pumpkin juice.

“So, I was wondering,” Harry began a new line of thought. “Were you planning to go to the Masquerade party tomorrow night?”

The left corner of Draco’s mouth raised. “Are you asking me if I’m going, or to go with you?”

“Uh, both, I suppose.”

“And you think you’re ready for that?” Draco asked sincerely. “Have you come out to anyone but Granger?”

“I was thinking that since we’d be wearing masks, no one will know who we are,” Harry explained.

“My hair is rather distinctive. Come to think of it, so is yours.”

“I’ve been working on transfiguring mine for the past week. So far, I’ve turned it blue, light brown and curly, and strawberry blond,” Harry said proudly. “I could do yours as well. Or show you the spells I used. And maybe I could wear lifts so I’d be taller.”

Draco chuckled. “You’ve given this some thought. What would we wear? Unless you’re planning on wearing a dress, we’ll still appear to be two men.”

“I don’t care about that. We’ll be disguised enough that no one will know who we are. Everyone will be disguised. I’ve heard some people say they’re wearing full costumes. It’ll be impossible to narrow it down to us.”

Draco could see that Harry was looking forward to it. Even though it won’t technically be coming out, it might be a good way to test the waters, as it were.

“Perhaps we should meet there. Just in case,” Draco proposed.

“Good idea. But we need a way to recognize each other. I was thinking of going with the strawberry blond hair. And I’ll carry something maybe. Like a blue rose.”

“_Like_ blue rose, or a blue rose. I’ll need to know. I certainly don’t want to pick up the wrong person,” Draco snickered.

“Okay, I’ll carry a blue rose. What about you?”

“Teach me how to make my hair blue. It seems fitting if we’re both sporting something blue,” Draco suggested. He paused and grinned. “It appears we’ve just planned our second date.”

“Does that mean this one is over?” Harry asked, pouting just a little bit.

Draco pulled a small intricate time piece from his pocket. “It’s almost one.” He tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

“Really?” Harry could hardly believe they’d been there nearly three hours. The time passed as quickly as it did when he was with Hermione and Ron. Of course, he had no desire to kiss either of them as their evenings drew to a close.

“Would you like to take any of this back to your House?” Harry motioned to what was left of the goodies.

“No one in Slytherin deserves them,” Draco laughed.

Harry Vanished them and stood to pick up the blanket, which Draco was still lying on.

“If you don’t move, I’ll shrink you and wrap you up in it,” Harry playfully threatened.

Draco reluctantly stood and helped Harry fold the blanket up. When they moved closer to hold their ends together, Draco took the opportunity to kiss Harry one more time.

Like before, Draco kept the buss sweet and gentle. But he chanced a small sweep of his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip. He sensed Harry’s uncertainty and didn’t want to scare him off. Draco was relieved when the Gryffindor’s own tongue reciprocated lightly. The pair relaxed into the kiss for a few moments, then parted.

They left the Tower together. Harry with his blanket, basket and newly acquired journal set, and Draco with his unopened bottle of wine. He was secretly glad that their evening was alcohol free, for a change.

“What are you going to tell your friends about tomorrow night?” Draco was curious.

“I’ll probably have to tell Mione. She’ll pull it out of me somehow anyway,” Harry laughed. “And Ron wants me to ask the girl from Potions class that I like.” He gave Draco a sideways glance.

Stopping in his tracks, Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “Am _I_ the girl in Potions you like?”

“He knew something was up. He’s more perceptive than he seems,” Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I suppose it could be worse. There really could be a girl in Potions you like.” For a second, he looked uncertain. “There isn’t, is there?”

“No. It’s you.” Harry hesitated, then asked a question that had been on his mind since the morning after the second wand party. “Draco? What happened that night? At the second party. I remember telling you . . . you’re handsome.” He blushed and began chewing on his thumb nail. “But when we woke up, you seemed upset with me and, well, I was lying on top of you . . .”

Draco grinned. “You really don’t remember?” Harry shook his head. “You, um, got me in a bit of a state, and then passed out on me. You left me more than just a bit frustrated,” Draco snickered.

Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean, I touched you or something?”

“More like ground against me,” Draco laughed. “You were completely pissed. It was all very sloppy.”

“Sorry,” Harry said shyly.

“Don’t be. It was rather sexy. And then I was pretty sure you leaned toward boys, at least me. I’ve just been biding my time, waiting for you to come around.”

“Is it okay if it’s a little slow going?”

“You’d better be worth the wait, Potter,” Draco smirked, teasing Harry.

They walked onto a staircase that moved unexpectedly to the right and dropped them off in a dark corridor.

“Damned staircases,” Draco cursed.

“Shh, do you hear that?” Harry whispered. “Someone’s over in that corner.”

The pair stood silently, straining to listen. Faint moans came from the pitchblack section of the castle. Harry turned to look at Draco but could only see his dim outline from the scant light of the window nearby.

“Oh, yes,” a small voice called out. “That’s good.”

Both Harry and Draco realized that it was most likely a pair from the Slytherin party fulfilling their desires. They were frozen in place by the murmurs and whispers.

Gradually, the moans and groans became louder, and Harry recognized the voice as Luna’s. Neither he, nor Draco intended to eavesdrop, but curiosity and a bit of voyeurism kept them there, standing in the corridor listening.

In her high pitched, lilting voice, Luna urged her partner on, encouraging him or her to bring Luna the ultimate pleasure.

“Oh my, yes.” Luna’s voice panted. “Neville, I’m going to cum. Don’t stop.”

Another voice, presumably Neville’s grunted in response.

Feeling more than a bit ashamed, Harry wanted to leave, but he was afraid Luna and Neville would hear their footsteps. And admittedly, he was getting turned on.

“Oh, yes.” Luna cried out and hummed loudly as she came down from her climax.

“Did I do all right?” Neville asked shyly.

“Amazingly,” Luna replied, still panting.

“Could you, um, you know, do something for me?” Neville groaned.

“Of course,” Luna answered. “But first, let me put up a silencing charm, so the boys listening in won’t hear any more.”

Harry and Draco released twin gasps and attempted to look at one another in surprise, but it was too dark. Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him as he ran the other way down the corridor. Harry couldn’t help but giggle at Draco’s panic.

They hadn’t run very far, when Draco stopped and pushed Harry up against a wall and ran his fingers through the thick dark mane. His mouth crashed hard into Harry’s as he snogged him in a frenzy. His tongue was unyielding in its perusal of Harry’s gaping mouth. But after the initial shock, Harry responded, and strove to gain the upper hand.

Firmly pushing Draco’s shoulders back, Harry tried to relieve the pressure from Draco’s crushing lips. He fisted Draco’s hair and gave a light tug, pulling Draco away enough to give himself room to maneuver. Harry turned them so that Draco’s back was now to the wall, and covering Draco’s mouth fully with his own, he glided his tongue over the blond’s. Harry slowed down the pace and allowed Draco to thoroughly investigate as he pleased.

Harry released Draco’s hair and slid his hand down his neck, past his collar bone and into the open shirt Harry had been eyeing up earlier. His fingers gently brushed over the taut skin. He was surprised to find it wasn’t as flawless as he’d imagined. Harry liked knowing Draco wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. Perhaps, that way, Draco would be able to see past all of Harry’s flaws.

They continued, until breathing through his nose no longer provided enough oxygen for Draco. Concerned he may pass out, he broke off the kiss and touched his forehead to Harry’s, panting.

“Do you think Luna knew it was us?” Harry wheezed.

“Can’t think,” Draco gasped for breath. “All the blood has left my brain.”

In a similar state, Harry giggled quietly.

“Fuck, Potter. You’re good. I think you’ll definitely be worth the wait.”

They stayed in position a few minutes, until their breathing returned to normal.

“I guess we ought to call it a night,” Harry finally said.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed. “See you tomorrow night.” He was still a bit featherbrained from the snog session as he walked away.

Harry bent down to retrieve the basket, blanket and journal he dropped when Draco slammed him up against the wall. If he had any doubts as to Draco’s intentions toward him, they had all but evaporated. Meandering dreamily through the castle, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor to find Hermione waiting up for him. 

Of course.


	11. I could have danced all night

October 31 1998 the wee hours of the morning (post date)

“Hermione? What are you doing up?” Harry questioned his best friend suspiciously.

“You didn’t really think I could go to bed without finding out what happened, did you?” she smirked, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half-one or so. Maybe later.”

“How did it go?” Hermione questioned.

Biting his lip, Harry attempted to suppress his grin. “It went . . . _very_ well.”

Hermione eyed him up and down. “Disheveled hair, swollen lips, flushed skin? My God, Harry, did, did, did you and–”

“No, no,” he shook his head emphatically. “We did snog a bit, though.” He sat down on the other end of the sofa, still grinning.

Although she was trying to be supportive, Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about the image that just popped into her mind. Logically, she realized that if they liked each other, they would kiss. And if it turned to more, they would . . .

“Mione?” Harry’s voice pulled Hermione out of her woolgathering. “Are you sure you’re all right with this?”

“It’s not my place, Harry. But yes. It’s a bit . . . disconcerting is all.”

“I know. It must be strange for you. Me wanting to be with someone you hate.” 

“I don’t hate him,” Hermione said. “Not anymore. I don’t think I have for a while now.”

“Really?”

“He hasn’t called me mudblood in years. And, truthfully, I felt sort of sorry for him sixth year. He was always brooding and miserable looking. And then of course, he helped you in his family’s manor. It seems as though he was never much of a willing participant in all the Dark Lord’s plans.”

“Still,” Harry said. 

“Harry, have you really thought of the ramifications of having a relationship with Malfoy?”

“Such as?”

“The savior of the wizarding world coming out is bound to be news. The Prophet will be all over it. Not everyone will be supportive.”

“I never said I was coming out.”

“Do you really think you can keep dating Draco a secret? People still follow what both of you do. He’s a Death Eater. I’m sure the Ministry is keeping an eye on him.”

Placing his hands on his hips, Harry sighed heavily. “He’s not a Death Eater. He was cleared.”

“I know that, Harry. But people hold grudges. I’ve heard a rumor that Malfoy still gets hate mail.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“No, I’m just trying to be realistic.” Hermione could tell he was becoming disheartened by the conversation.

“I’d rather you were supportive. A good start would be to call him Draco instead of Malfoy,” Harry whinged.

Yawning, Hermione covered her mouth. “It’s late. We should go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

She leaned over to hug her friend. He half-heartedly returned it, still a tiny bit annoyed at her playing of devil’s advocate.

“Yeah, all right. See you in the morning.”

hdhdhd

October 31 1998

Around eight o’clock, Ron, Harry and Hermione met up in the common room to walk to breakfast together.

“What time did you get in last night Harry?” Ron nudged him in the side. “Hot date?”

“Uh,” Harry stood uncomfortably. “You could say that.” He shot Hermione a look.

“Shall we?” Hermione said, hoping to change the subject. “I’m starved.”

“I hope there’s bacon this morning,” Harry continued the conversation.

“Did you know?” Ron questioned Hermione, giving her a small frown. He witnessed the look exchanged between her and Harry. “You told her, and not me?”

“Ron, it’s not like that. I wasn’t planning to tell her. You know Hermione, she just figured it out,” Harry explained.

“Still,” Ron sulked. “You could have told me.”

“I didn’t want you to make a big deal about it. It was very casual,” Harry told him, which was true.

“Who was she?” Ron asked. “Will you at least tell me that?”

“It’s the same person I’ve been talking about for the last week,” Harry offered. “But I’m not saying who it is yet.”

“Why not?” Ron grumbled. “You told me about Daphne, and Pansy.”

“I wasn’t really interested in them. I only asked Daphne out because you said I should.”

“What?” Hermione asked. “Is that true?” She raised her eyebrows at Harry. “You didn’t even like her?”

“Look, can we just drop it for now?” Harry pleaded. “I promise Ron, I’ll tell you all about it after I sort it out for myself.”

“She must be a real minger if you won’t tell me who it is. Are you embarrassed?” Ron laughed and nudged Harry’s side.

“No, in fact just the opposite,” Harry fumed.

“Just playin’, mate. No need to get your knickers in a bunch.”

Ron was reluctant to let it go, but as soon as they opened the door to the Great Hall, the smell of food made him forget about Harry’s date.

hdhdhd

“Mione?” Harry cautiously entered the area of the library in which Hermione was studying. She glanced up at him.

“Um, I’m sorry about the way I talked to you last night. I was tired. I know you were only trying to help.”

“It’s all right, Harry. Have you spoken to Ron yet?”

“Not yet. I will, though,” he assured her. “I came to ask you for help.”

With that, Hermione perked up. “What do you need?”

“Well, I need help with my outfit for tonight.”

“You’re going?” she questioned.

“Yes. Although, I need to disguise myself completely. I’m going to change my hair and wear shoes that make me taller. But I won’t be able to see without my glasses. Any ideas?”

“Your mask won’t cover them?”

“I don’t have a mask yet. I was hoping you could help me with that as well,” he answered sheepishly.

Hermione thought a moment. “Perhaps we could transfigure your glasses _into_ a mask. Are you wearing dress robes or a costume?”

“I was thinking maybe a pirate or maybe a cowboy. Or, I could be some sort of animal.”

“Oh, muggle costumes.”

“Why, what are you and Ron wearing?” Harry asked.

“We’re dressing up in Renaissance clothing. Very traditional, but Ron doesn’t want to wear anything outlandish,” she laughed. “Instead of his dress robes, he’ll wear a muggle-type suit.”

“What is Mal--Draco wearing? Do you want to match?”

Harry smirked at Hermione’s recovery. “No. The whole point is for no one to know it’s us. Actually, the only thing I know is that his hair will be blue.”

Thoughtfully rubbing her chin, Hermione took out a piece of parchment and a quill. She began to sketch a few designs. Harry watched and made small suggestions, until they came up with a good idea of how Harry’s outfit would look.

“Is it too cliche?” Harry queried as he looked over the crude drawing Hermione made.

“Considering many of the students here never went trick-or-treating with muggles, and it’s very American, I think it will be original enough.”

They both studied the sketch--a typical American western outlaw outfit, complete with a bandana covering the lower face and hat to help conceal the hair. Harry decided he would still make his hair blond in case he took his hat off. It wasn’t entirely accurate as neither he nor Hermione were very familiar with the theme, other than old films. But Hermione figured, not many of the other students would be any more educated on the subject. He liked the idea of being comfortable in jeans and loose shirt most of all. A simple black mask transfigured from his glasses would complete the ensemble. 

“Ron has a long jacket you could wear.”

“What about a gun? An outlaw has to have a gun,” Harry grinned.

“We’ll simply conjure one up, along with a hat and bandana. Just remember that they won’t last. Anything else?” Hermione wanted to know.

Blushing just a bit, Harry admitted, “I need a blue rose as well.”

Hermione simply raised an eyebrow.

“So he’ll recognize me.” He rolled his eyes.

Smiling, Hermione remarked, “It’s sweet. I don’t recall ever seeing you quite so . . . besotted.”

“_Besotted_?” Harry was indignant. “I’m hardly acting besotted. Perhaps a bit cautiously optimistic.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Harry. I was being sincere. I enjoy seeing you happy. Even if the object of your affections is M-Draco. Just please tell Ron soon. I don’t like keeping things from him. Especially now that we’re becoming closer than ever.”

“I will,” Harry promised. “Tomorrow, we’re going to Diagon Alley together. I’ll tell him everything then. Regardless of what happens tonight.”

hdhdhd

Harry waited for most of his House to leave before he began to get ready for the Halloween dance. Earlier in the evening, Hermione helped him with his clothing and glasses. It had been difficult for him to spend the past hour without them, but he didn’t want to wear his mask in front of anyone.

By nine o’clock, the party had begun and almost everyone in the school was in the Great Hall. Harry swiftly put on his costume, along with the boots he altered to make him taller. He placed the mask over his eyes and pulled the red bandana up over his nose. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Harry could barely see any of his face. Perfect. He waved his wand and whispered the incantation to change his hair. He watched it slowly morph into a light strawberry blond color, which he attempted to comb down.

Satisfied that he was truly unrecognizable, Harry walked out of Gryffindor and made his way to the Great Hall.

When Harry arrived, twenty minutes later, the party was in full swing. Students were decked out in seemingly every possible sort of costume. Some, like Ron and Hermione, wore classical period clothing. Some were dressed in typical Halloween characters, such as ghosts and movie monsters. Others, like Harry sported muggle costumes. And then there were some that Harry couldn’t figure out what the hell they were supposed to be. It looked like they simply threw on whatever they happened to have lying around. It was all in good fun, though, and Harry’s mood was high. He searched the crowd for a head of blue hair but found none on his first pass around the room. He stopped to get a cup of pumpkin punch, then strolled around once more. He noticed that he could see over many more students’ heads than usual. The high heeled boots he wore made his footing a bit wobbly, but it was well worth the extra height. Harry secretly wished her were taller, like many of the other boys. 

Hermione casually wandered to his side as he nibbled on crisps by the buffet. She addressed him without looking at him, so they wouldn’t appear to know one another. She was dressed in a beautiful pale blue ball gown with a rather low neck and bodice that pushed her breasts up high, causing them to just about spill over the top. Even Harry couldn’t help notice. Her cleavage rivaled Pansy’s.

“You look . . . positively ravishing,” Harry grinned beneath his bandana, but of course, Hermione couldn’t see. “I’m surprised Ron let you out looking like that?”

“Why, because you think other boys are leering at me?” She smirked.

“That, or he just wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you,” Harry chuckled.

“No sign of Draco yet?” Hermione lowered her voice.

Harry sighed. “No. And it’s coming up on ten o’clock. Maybe he decided not to come.”

“Maybe he’s aiming for fashionably late. He is a Malfoy, after all.”

“An hour is just plain late, not fashionable. More likely, he’s not going to show up. I’m gonna go.”

“Give him a few more minutes,” Hermione urged.

“I’ll give it ten more minutes, then I’ll call it a night. You two have fun.” Harry walked about the Hall once more, in case he simply missed Draco. Several students beckoned him to join them, as they had been doing all evening, but he waved them off.

Feeling a bit dejected, Harry made his way to the entrance. He reached for the doorknob but caught air and was suddenly knocked down by the opening door. Sprawled out on his back, Harry looked up to see a figure dressed from head to toe in enticingly tight white leather. And blue hair. A fabulously ornate white feather mask covered the wearer’s eyes and nose.

“Shit,” Draco cursed under his breath. “Are you okay?” It was then he noticed the long-stemmed blue rose clutched in the western bandit’s hand. Draco held out his hand to help Harry up.

Harry took the offered hand and stood. When Harry tried to free his hand, Draco held tight.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I had trouble with the hair color. It kept coming out too purple.”

Harry smiled, then realized that Draco wouldn’t be able to see it. He offered him the rose instead.

Draco accepted it, snapped the stem off and placed it in the lapel of his white leather jacket. He tossed the stem over his shoulder. “May I have this dance?” he leered.

Harry nodded and followed Draco to the dance floor. He didn’t have much choice as Draco was still grasping his hand firmly.

The crowd was jumping and writhing to the quick beat of the Weird Sisters, minus Gideon Crumb and Merton Graves. Harry didn’t mind, he never cared much for bagpipes anyway. A girl with an outfit leaving very little to the imagination, sidled up to Draco tempting him to dance. Draco put an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He said something in her ear that Harry couldn’t hear. By the depth of her cleavage, Harry assumed the girl was Pansy.

The girl then beamed at Harry and slapped his bum before turning to dance with the nearest masculine appearing party goer. Still holding Harry’s right hand, Draco began to bounce up and down along with the rest of the horde.

He leaned close to Harry. “Aren’t you going to dance?”

“I don’t really dance,” Harry shouted back. Even so, it was difficult to hear one another.

“Come on. You have to dance. That’s the whole point.” Draco continued to cavort around Harry, tugging on Harry’s hand to encourage him to join in.

“I’m bad,” Harry called out. “Really bad.”

“I don’t care,” Draco began to gyrate his hips into Harry’s.

Harry backed up. “What are you doing?” Harry looked around to see if anyone was watching.

“Trying to have fun. No one knows who we are. No one cares. Just dance,” Draco ordered. He released Harry’s hand and ran his fingers through his own hair. He felt free. Free to make a fool of himself if he wanted. Free to dance publicly with the object of his affection. All with no consequences. He wanted Harry to enjoy it with him.

The girl with the cleavage was back. Harry couldn’t be positive it was Pansy. Now that Draco was no longer attached to Harry, she ground up against Draco and put her arms around his neck. Draco reciprocated, placing his arms around her waist. He was smiling.

Something in Harry snapped at seeing this. He stepped forward and pulled presumed Pansy away from Draco. She staggered back a step or two on her stilettos. Even through her mask, Harry could see a look of shock on her face.

“He’s mine,” Harry shouted. “Stay away from him.”

The feeling of possessiveness that took over Harry surprised himself as well. The thought of anyone else touching Draco in such a manor made his blood boil. He unexpectedly grabbed Draco and began jumping and dancing, doing his best to imitate the mass.

Draco smirked. Harry was right. He was bollocks at dancing. But the way he jealously protected what he considered his, turned Draco on.

The Sisters slowed down the music and the dance floor cleared by more than half. Harry and Draco found themselves feeling much more exposed than before without so many others to hide amongst. Both Harry and Draco tried to wrap their arms around the other’s waist.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Draco told Harry.

“No, I’m not a girl. You put yours around mine.”

Harry put his arms over top of Draco’s. Neither wanted to be trapped under the other and they wrestled for control.

“Wait,” Harry finally said. He took Draco’s left arm and draped it over his shoulder. Then, he put his own left arm around Draco’s shoulder, leaving their right hands on one another’s waist.

“I think I like your compromise,” Draco smiled. “But I don’t like this scarf thing.” He pulled the bandana down off Harry’s face. “That’s better.”

They began to sway with the music.

“You don’t like the bandana. What do you think of the rest of my outfit?” Harry asked.

“It’s very concealing,” Draco pouted. “What do you think of mine?”

“Very non-concealing,” Harry snickered. “How did you manage to pour yourself into those trousers?”

“Actually, I shrunk them onto myself,” Draco admitted. “Don’t ask me to bend over. I’m sure they’ll rip to shreds if I do,” he laughed.

Harry shuddered at the thought of Draco bending over for him and the image that thought conjured in his head. He let out a small involuntary moan.

Grinning widely, Draco begged the question, “You like that, do you?”

Harry merely nodded.

“You’re taller tonight,” Draco observed.

“Part of the disguise.”

“I like it. You’re just the right height.”

“For what?”

Draco leaned forward and captured Harry’s lips in a sensuous kiss. Harry’s fingers wound through Draco’s blue hair while pressing his body further into Draco’s.

The music switched back to the Weird Sister’s usual loud, raucous dance beat, sending students back to the dance floor. Harry and Draco didn’t seem to notice and continued to snog. They vacillated between dancing and snogging for the remainder of the night. Harry noted that the girl with the cleavage never came back.

hdhdhd 

It was difficult to tell who many of the party guests were. Some students were so completely hidden by their costumes, it was hard to distinguish if the wearer was a boy or a girl. Others barely took care to disguise themselves at all.

Padma and Parvati walked in together, neither having secured dates. In truth, most of the students had gone dateless. Ginny and Dean had gone together, as well as Luna and Neville. And of course, Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Draco. And a few others. However, there was a certain amount of excitement, dancing and interacting with a mystery person, that the students enjoyed.

Dancing partners were exchanged often, though some lingered. Part of the fun was trying to figure out exactly who was under the mask. For the most part, older Slytherin students guessed that Draco was the tall, thin figure in the white leather. Even though his hair was disguised, his lean physique was distinguishable. However, it occurred to no one, with the exception of Hermione, that Harry was his dancing partner for the evening.

Someone dressed as a vampire approached Parvati and held out his hand. She was fairly certain it was a he, anyway. The vampire bowed to her and stood waiting for a reply to his unasked question. Tentatively, Parvati took the offered hand, and the boy swept her onto the dance floor.

They were dancing, more or less ball room style, but quickly, to keep up with the beat of the music. Parvati was spun and twirled and dipped. Her partner seemed to be making it all up on the spot. And perhaps he wasn’t the finest dancer, but she was having fun. Padma and Romilda watched the pair as they drank pumpkin punch.

“Who is that?” Romilda asked.

Padma shrugged. “Don’t know. But I wish someone like that would ask me to dance.”

“Why wait for someone to ask you? Go out there.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Why not? You’re wearing a mask.”

“Everyone knows my hair. Even up in this bun, I’m sure everyone can tell it’s me.”

Romilda sighed. “So what. It’s a party. Ask somebody.”

“_You_ ask somebody,” Padma challenged.

“All right, I will.” Romlida scanned the room for a lone party goer to approach. She spotted two definitely male figures standing on the far side of the room. She grabbed Padma’s arm.

“Come on. We’re dancing.”

Though she tried to pry Romilda’s hand from her arm, Padma couldn’t escape and had no choice but to follow her sister’s friend toward the boys.

“Do you want the one dressed in robes or the cat-thing?” Romilda asked Padma.

“Um, I guess the dress robes.”

As the girls drew nearer, Romilda put on her best smile. “My friend and I are in need of dancing partners. Would you be interested?”

The boys looked at each other. They looked back at Romilda and nodded eagerly. She recognized one of them as Jack Sloper, who was in her year. She decided not to tell Padma that both boys were more than likely two years younger than her.

“What are you supposed to be?” Romilda questioned Jack.

“A werewolf, of course,” he frowned. He knew his costume was poorly put together, but he thought it was at least recognizable.

The other boy took Padma’s arm and led her to the dance floor.

When the music slowed, Padma caught sight of her sister, still dancing with the same vampire. She was pleased to see her having a good time and forgetting all about that stupid Michael Corner.

hdhdhd 

Anthony watched, with Ernie and Justin, just on the fringes of the dance party. The three of them planned their costumes together and stood looking rather silly as three Merlins. They had decided to be famous wizards, but all of them wanted to be the most famous wizard. And since none would give in to the others, they all showed up as the same thing.

“We can’t stand together like this. We look ridiculous. No girls are going to want to dance with us,” Ernie said.

Suddenly, Anthony spotted who he thought was Tracey. “I agree. I’m gone.” And he disappeared into the crowd.

Ernie was next to leave. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go for it.”

Justin was left standing awkwardly on his own. He made his way to the refreshment table, thinking it would give him something to do with his fidgety hands.

A girl dressed as a sorceress was standing right in front of the cups for the pumpkin punch. If Justin was to get one, he’d have to ask her to move. He cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, but could I have a cup?”

“Sorry?” the girl cocked her head. “I can’t hear you over the band,” she shouted.

He leaned a bit closer. “I asked if you could hand me a cup,” he said, louder.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was blocking the way.” The girl smiled. She wore an odd sort of mask that showed her mouth but came down on the sides and covered her cheeks.

“No problem,” he smiled back as she handed him a cup. He dipped it into the punch and took a sip. 

“I love this band,” the girl shouted.

“Yeah,” Justin agreed. “I miss the bagpipes, though.”

The girl nodded. “Are you Merlin?” she asked.

“Yes. Although, there are several of us,” he laughed.

“Your costume is nice. I’m Morgana,” she offered.

“It’s a shame you’re my sworn enemy,” he joked. “I’d ask you to dance.” Hiding behind a mask gave him new found confidence.

“Oh, did I say Morgana? I meant to say Laverne de Montmorency,” she responded coyly.

“Ah, the love potion inventor. Now I _must_ ask you to dance.” He couldn’t believe he actually had the nerve to flirt with this girl. And she even seemed to be flirting back. He put his cup down and extended a crooked elbow toward her. She placed her own cup on the table and linked her arm through his.

Justin and his newly acquired dancing partner made their way through the crowd. On the way, he saw Anthony and Tracey. Justin gave him a thumbs up as he passed.

hdhdhd

Anthony approached a girl in a tight spotted outfit with a tail and ears. She wore a mask that only covered her eyes.

“Tracey?”

“Who are you?” she furrowed her brow.

He pulled his beard down and lifted his mask.

“Oh,” she said self-consciously. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, just as self-consciously. “It’s sort of loud here. Can we talk somewhere?”

“Um, I’m here with Daphne. I can’t just leave her.”

Anthony’s shoulders dropped. “Seriously? You don’t think she can handle herself alone?”

She glanced at Daphne, who was sandwiched between two boys as they all danced.

“Have you been avoiding me?” he questioned.

“Um.” She wasn’t sure how to answer. She had been, but not for the reason he probably thought. Seamus had chosen her wand at the third party. She refused to do everything he requested of her, and so she broke out in boils for the following week. Feeling embarrassed and ugly, Tracey didn’t want anyone to see her, but especially Anthony. 

“Oh. I see.” He lowered his mask and pulled his beard back up over his mouth. “Sorry to have bothered you.” He frowned and turned to leave.

Tracey gave another quick look to Daphne, who was now dancing with three boys.

“You’re on your own,” she muttered to Daphne, knowing she couldn’t possibly be heard. “Wait!” she shouted to Anthony and caught the sleeve of his robe. As he turned to face her, Anthony saw Justin walk by grinning, giving him a thumbs up. Anthony returned the gesture, then went back to frowning.

“I’ll go with you. I want to explain.”

Anthony put a gentle hand on her lower back and led her through the swarm of dancers. The pair left the party and walked through the castle until they came upon a secluded spot.

They sat on a large windowsill facing one another. The pair removed their facial disguises and regarded one another.

Tracey began speaking first. “I was avoiding you last week.”

“You brought me all the way here to tell me _that_?” His mouth became a thin straight line as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“I was avoiding you because I didn’t want you to see me. I had to pay the consequences of the game and I got boils.” It was embarrassing to tell him she had them, even if he didn’t actually see them.

“Seamus picked your wand, right?”

“Yes.” She lowered her gaze.

“And you didn’t do what he wanted?” She shook her head. “Why not?”

“I actually went to the party hoping to get your wand again.” She bit her lip and waited for his response.

He smirked. “Really? I didn’t think you Slytherins liked to co-mingle with the rest of us.”

“You do have a lot of misconceptions about us, don’t you?”

“You’re educating me. What about last night? You don’t seem to have any boils today.”

“Oh. Yes, because I was the Chooser. Well, technically, I was both, because Padma was odd girl out and we all had to put our wands back for her to choose. She ended up picking mine.”

“So, what happened?”

“Not much, to Theo’s disappointment,” she laughed. “We all played exploding snap. Although, Theo tried his best to turn it into strip exploding snap,” she laughed again. Anthony joined her. “What about you?”

“Uh, Romilda picked me.” He didn’t want to elaborate. There was nothing official between him and Tracey, but he still felt uncomfortable telling her things that went on between him and Romilda.

Tracey nodded.

“I would have preferred you,” he offered quietly. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

She knew what he meant. “Fine. Really. I was feeling perfectly fine a couple of days after.” She looked away shyly.

“Do you regret it?”

“Not at all,” she answered quickly. “In fact,” her heart started to beat faster as she contemplated what she was about to say. “I was hoping the second time would be even better.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously? With _me_?”

Tracey giggled. “No, with Slughorn,” she said sarcastically. “Of course, with _you_.” She leaned forward, intending to kiss him.

“Wait.” He stopped her.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. I should at least take you out first or something. I don’t want to take advantage.”

She smiled. “You wouldn’t be. I want to. It was my idea.” She reached out her hand for his. “I like you. Do you like me?”

“Very much.”

“Then come with me. And prove it.”

hdhdhd

“Disgusting, innit?” Ron said in Hermione’s ear as he jerked his head in Harry and Draco’s direction.

“Why? Because it appears to be two boys?”

“No, because they’re having more fun than us,” Ron grinned and drew Hermione closer. “And I didn’t think of it first.” He tilted his chin and smoothly glided his lips over Hermione’s. She responded by parting her mouth and allowing him to take whatever liberties he pleased.

After a while, Ron suggested they leave the party.

“But I’m having fun,” Hermione protested.

“It’s over at midnight anyway,” Ron reminded her. The large enchanted clock read eleven forty-three. “Let’s go make our own magic before our roommates get back.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her. She couldn’t see the gesture behind his mask, but she didn’t need to. She knew what he meant. “Although,” Ron continued. “I am curious as to who those two are. If I had to guess, I’d say the taller, skinny one is Malfoy. Except he’s smiling way too much to be him. I don’t have any idea about the other one.”

Hermione shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know,” she answered, hoping to dissuade him from his curiosity.

“We would if we stayed ‘til midnight. Everyone is supposed to be revealed,” he told her.

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yeah, you and Harry were in the library. McGonagall sent an owl to each House about it. The magic in the Great Hall will be cancelled, ending the dance. I guess she didn’t want anyone ending up starkers when their spells reversed at midnight,” Ron laughed.

“You mean, _all _the magic disappears? Not just the decorations?”

“Yeah, well, magic conjured for the party. Sort of like that fairy tale.”

“Cinderella? So, clothing goes back to normal and things transfigured go back to their original form?” Hermione thought about Harry’s glasses and hair.

“What’s the big deal? I don’t think there’s any doubt as to who we are. Not really any other ginger boys. And who else would I be with?” He nuzzled her neck, then lowered his mouth to her décolletage. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hermione pushed his face up out of her bosom and giggled. “Why don’t you go make sure we’ll have your room to ourselves. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, luv,” Ron called as he made his way to leave the party.

Making a beeline for Harry, Hermione weaved her way through the crowd. She came upon the pair, kissing again. For a moment, she watched Malfoy gently caressing Harry’s cheek while peppering him with short, tender kisses. He pulled back and smiled at Harry in a way she’d never seen him smile. Actually, she thought him incapable of anything other than a sneering smirk before catching his grin in Potions the previous day.

With no time to waste, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him to face her.

“You have to leave,” she said.

“Why?” Harry grinned. “We’re having fun. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“Because,” Hermione glanced up at the clock. “In,” she paused to look at the clock, “twelve minutes, your charms will disappear. Everything will go back to normal. Your hair, your glasses, Draco’s hair.” She was proud that she remembered to call him by his given name for a change. “Everyone who is here will be revealed.”

He leaned to Draco’s ear and relayed Hermione’s message, suggesting they leave straight away.

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry kissed her cheek.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she chuckled. “You won’t be able to get into your room for a while.” Hermione kicked off her pointy, uncomfortable shoes, scooped them up, grabbed the front of her skirt and dashed out of the Great Hall.

“Yeah, thanks, Hermione,” Harry muttered to himself.

Taking Draco by the hand, Harry zigzagged his way through the mass to the entrance of the Hall. Once through, they were able to speak in a more normal volume. Although Harry’s ears were ringing just a bit.

“Where to?” he asked Draco. “Unless you’re ready to call it a night.”

“There’s only one place _to_ go.”

“Astronomy Tower?” Harry didn’t really have to ask.

The two quietly crept through the castle, keeping a sharp eye out for Filch, who loved to catch students where they weren’t supposed to be. Fortunately, Mrs. Norris often gave him away. And Harry hadn’t been caught by Filch in a long time.

Once they reached the tallest tower in Hogwarts, Draco insisted they return to their usual appearances.

“You don’t like me as a strawberry blond?” Harry asked coyly.

“With those eyebrows? Definitely not,” Draco said as he waved his wand at his own hair, returning it to its platinum glory. He removed his mask and was all set to transfigure his clothing back, when Harry stopped him.

“Can’t you leave those trousers on for a little while longer?” Harry blushed as he very obviously glanced at Draco crotch.

“We’ll see how long they continue to accommodate me,” Draco smirked.

Harry removed his mask and transfigured it back into his glasses.

“Don’t bother putting those back on,” Draco told him. He took them out of Harry’s hand and tossed them on the jacket Harry had already taken off. Harry changed his hair back and stood, almost eye to eye with Draco.

“The boots,” Draco motioned to them. “As convenient as it may be for you to be taller, I enjoy looming over you.”

Taking off the boots, Harry shrunk down a good three inches. “That’s all. The rest is just me.”

“Perfect,” Draco breathed and lunged at Harry, pinning him to the wall. 

He’d been kissing Harry on and off all evening, but they’d been restrained, in public. Draco pressed his mouth over Harry’s, remembering not crush his lips as he had the night before. While their tongues danced together, Draco’s hands wandered up under Harry’s shirt. Draco rubbed lightly over Harry’s nicely developed chest and abs before inching their way further down.

Draco felt Harry tense up when he released the button on Harry’s jeans. In an instant, the zipper was down and Draco’s right hand was working its way into Harry’s pants.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s hand on his wrist stopped Draco from going past the waistband.

Panting softly, Draco asked him, “Aren’t you tired of wanking alone in the bathroom after our little meetings? I am.”

Chuckling lightly, Harry told him, “I didn’t have a chance to last night. Hermione waited up for me.”

“Let me help you then,” Draco breathed. “I can make you feel so good.” He pulled back further to look at Harry. “Are you _still_ not sure of this?” he questioned.

“You don’t understand,” Harry averted his eyes. “I want this, but . . . I, uh.” 

“I don’t understand? It’s not exactly easy for me either. My father would disown me if he knew. He expects me to marry one of the Greengrass girls when I leave here. Or some other pureblood bitch.” Draco sighed and removed his hand from Harry’s pants. The moment seemed to be gone. “If you’re still unsure, maybe we ought to cool things for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry hung his head. “Are you angry?”

“I’m frustrated,” The Slytherin mumbled. “I thought . . . at the party you were so . . . I thought you wanted me as much as I want you.” Draco had always kept the upper hand. He never conveyed desperation to anyone. But he was desperate to have Harry. He closed his eyes, unable to bear facing his confessor. 

Harry’s brain shouted_ I do_. His mouth, however, wouldn’t work. He knew the longer he went without saying anything, the more it would appear to Draco that Harry didn’t want him after all.

Finally, Draco opened his eyes and stepped back from Harry. He silently transfigured his white leather trousers back into jeans, picked up his mask and Vanished it.

“Maybe you’re not quite so bent as you thought, Potter. Or maybe it’s just me.”

Harry watched him head down the spiral staircase, still struggling to find words. They’d snogged enough to know there was great chemistry. How was he to explain that it wasn’t Draco, it was himself? Harry punched the wall behind him with the side of his fist. He’d already given that speech to Ginny. What the hell was wrong with him?


	12. mysteries solved

October 31 1998 continued

Justin Finch-Fletchley couldn’t believe his luck. He managed to find a girl who not only was willing to dance with him, but she let him put his arms around her and hold her closely during the slow songs. Of course, she had no idea who he was. He hoped he could charm her enough so by the end of the evening, when they removed their masks, she wouldn’t run away.

They managed to find things to talk about. Generic topics, but the conversation flowed without too many awkward silences. He tried to figure out who she was by some of the things she said, but each was very careful not to reveal too much. Although, he’d let slip something about his muggle parents. She mentioned Tracey Davis and Mandy Brocklehurst during their conversations, so he surmised she may be from either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. 

Justin began to get nervous as the midnight hour approached. He and his mystery girl had been getting on so well, he wished he could always wear a mask.

The last slow song of the evening was announced, and many more couples occupied the dance floor than previously. Though Ernie danced with many partners, he ended the night standing by the refreshment table by himself. He, along with several other students, watched and waited for the clock to strike. A few had already removed their uncomfortable masks.

Finch-Fletchley grew more anxious that he would revert back to his usual insecure, unconfident self once he was revealed and made a quick decision. Without warning, he kissed the girl. She broke the kiss quickly and looked at him in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve been having such a good time with you.”

“It’s okay. I was surprised is all.” She didn’t make a move, but the way she stayed close made Justin think he should try again.

He leaned in, more slowly this time. She parted her lips slightly and kissed him back. They stood on the dance floor kissing, like several other couples, but more demurely. Justin still didn’t know who she was, and he didn’t want to come across as overbearing.

The clock struck midnight and their masks disappeared. Both Justin and his partner opened their eyes mid-kiss.

She was so fast, he never saw the hand that slapped him hard across his face.

“Did you know it was me?” she almost screamed at him. “Ugh, I can’t believe I kissed you!” Millicent wiped at her mouth and smeared lipstick on her face.

Finch-Fletchley stood blinking in disbelief himself. How could this girl, this lovely girl he’d been talking to and flirting with all night be Millicent Bulstrode? 

“Of course I didn’t know it was you,” he said. “After what you made me do at the party, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near you.”

“What _I_ did? What _you_ did when you got my wand was worse!” She loudly harrumphed and walked away.

Ernie approached, laughing. “Looks like I ended up with a better date than you.”

Justin furrowed his brow. “But you didn’t end up with anyone.”

“Exactly,” Ernie smiled.

hdhdhd

Parvati smiled as her dance partner’s mask vanished. She had a feeling it had been Michael dressed as a vampire, but they had barely spoken. Instead, they communicated through dance.

Michael bit his lip. “I knew it was you the whole time.”

“I didn’t know who you were for sure, at first,” Parvati admitted. “But when we danced close together, I could smell your cologne.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it was fun and exciting not knowing for certain. Although, I hoped I was right,” she smiled shyly.

“Parvati, I didn’t shag Pansy at the party. Probably the only bloke that didn’t shag her, given the chance. In fact, I didn’t even go to the party last night.”

“Me neither.”

He appeared surprised. “You didn’t? Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to see you walk out of another girl’s room again. I knew I didn’t have the right to be jealous, but I couldn’t help it. I thought maybe you’d ask me out or to this dance or something . . . “

“I wanted to. Really. I was afraid to talk to you all week though, because of my punishment from the game,” he explained. “It was rather embarrassing,” Michael blushed. “You have _no_ _idea_ how many times people say the word wand in a week.”

Parvati giggled. “I did hear about that. That shouldn’t have kept you away.” She blushed herself. “I could have, maybe, helped.”

He grinned at that thought. “Parvati, would you go out with me?”

“Yes,” she grinned back.

Michael cupped her cheeks and pulled her to him. He pressed his mouth to hers.

A throat cleared loudly nearby.

“Mr. Corner, Miss Patil. The dance is over. To your rooms,” McGonagall said. It was a sentiment she repeated several times to several couples who didn’t want the evening to end.

“Yes, Professor,” they said together, and left hand in hand.

As they neared the place where they would part ways to return to their own rooms, Michael took a quick glance around, then pulled Parvati with him. 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Taking my girlfriend to my room.” When they arrived, he said the password and they stepped inside. Parvati immediately pushed him on the sofa, pinning him down.

“So, will anything happen if I say wand?”

“Well, the spell is gone. But, Parvati, right now you could say just about anything and get that same result.” Michael was getting turned on by the innuendo. And the pressure of her weight on top of him.

Once again, Ginny and Dean walked in on the pair snogging on the couch.

“Michael, you _do _have a private room, you know,” Ginny chided.

“Uh, right, sorry.” He tried not to sound like he was panting.

“Perhaps we should declare our common room a no snogging zone,” Ginny smiled, her tone softening. Obviously, the two were hot for one another and they made an oddly cute couple.

“Good idea,” Michael did his best to hide his boner as he got up and led Parvati to his room.

Ginny shook her head and laughed. “Come on. If this is a no snogging zone, we need to get the hell out.” She pulled Dean by his tie into her bedroom.

hdhdhd

November 1 1998

Hermione wandered into the common room to find Harry fast asleep on the couch. Though students were milling about, he didn’t stir until she gently tapped him on the shoulder. He groaned and rolled away from her.

“Harry,” she said softly. “It’s morning. Aren’t you and Ron going out today?”

“Hm don wan ga bup,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Harry,” she shook his shoulder.

He lifted his head slightly. “I said I don’t want to get up.” He lay still for only a moment longer. “Fuck.” He sat up and looked at Hermione, bleary eyed.

“Oh, my,” she winced. “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” She began to smile, then saw that he wasn’t. In fact, he appeared fairly miserable. “What happened?”

“Me. I fucked it up. Again. Maybe I’m just not meant to be in any type of relationship.” He rubbed his face and yawned loudly. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Will you talk to Ron? Please?”

“I said I would.” He muttered under his breath, “I may as well ruin that relationship while I’m at it.”

“Harry, don’t be so melodramatic. Ron will understand, in time.”

hdhdhd

Browsing the merchandise in the second-hand shop, Ron was trying to decide what to get Hermione, while Harry was practically falling asleep on his feet. Ron seemed oblivious to Harry’s condition.

“I can’t believe I’m taking advise from Malfoy, of all people,” Ron shook his head.

“Huh?” Malfoy’s name caught Harry’s attention.

“This is the place he suggested I come for a gift for Hermione. Told me a story about some quill he bought his mum. Maybe I’ll get Mione a new quill and journal.”

“Journal,” Harry whispered to himself. He had forgotten all about the journal Draco gave him. He had planned to write in it his plans for the future, curious as to whether the journal would correct him.

“I wanted to get her some sort of jewelry, but now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to get.” Ron was looking at some books at that point.

“Doesn’t she have enough books already?” Harry joked.

“You’d think, but she still is always browsing the bookstore.”

Harry saw a charm bracelet that Ron had overlooked. “That’s pretty,” Harry said, pointing to it.

“Oi,” Ron called to the clerk. “Can you tell me anything about this bracelet? Do you know who owned it before?”

The petite blonde girl smiled. “That one was owned by a muggle born witch called Nell about a hundred years ago.” She opened up the case and handed it to Ron. “Her lover, a wizard named Wyatt, gave her the bracelet with one charm, the tiny wand. Every year, he added another charm.”

“There are only five charms. Were they only together four years?” Ron asked.

“Yes, his family was pureblood and back then, a pure blood would never even look at a half blood, much less a muggle-born. It’s a romantic story.” The perky blonde continued to tell the tale. “They dated secretly until his brother discovered them and told. Wyatt’s family threatened to disown him if he didn’t stop seeing her. And her family didn’t understand the wizard ways. So just like Romeo and Juliet, they made a pact to kill themselves.”

Ron made a face. “That’s not romantic. That’s bloody awful. I’m not giving Mione something owned by someone who killed herself.” He handed back the bracelet.

“But that’s not the end of the story,” the clerk insisted. “It turns out, that unlike Romeo and Juliet, they didn’t actually go through with it. They ran away together and lived out the rest of their lives in a small cottage in the countryside. The rumor is that they’re still alive out there somewhere. And still together,” she sighed.

“Oh, well, then I guess that is romantic,” Ron conceded. “But why is the bracelet here? Why didn’t she take it with her?”

“Because everyone knew it was her most prized possession. Leaving it behind made her death more believable. We acquired it just recently when Nell’s childhood home was sold, and the contents auctioned off.”

Ron turned the bracelet over in his hand a few times. “How much is it?”

“Twenty-five Galleons,” the blonde replied.

“Twenty-five Galleons for a used bracelet?” Ron questioned. It was a lot of money to spend on one gift. Even if it was for his girl. He turned to Harry. “Do you think Hermione will _really_ like it?”

The perky clerk blinked. “Hermione? Hermione Granger?” She looked at the pair of boys in front of her. She hadn’t bothered to look closely before, as she was only interested in making a sale. She gasped when she made the connection. “You’re, you’re . . .” she stammered.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other and laughed.

“We’re just here to buy a gift for his girlfriend,” Harry told her.

“Harry Potter,” she whispered in awe. “And you’re Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Ron smiled, embarrassed to have the girl staring at him.

“Well, then,” the clerk straightened herself up and smoothed out her hair. “That’s another story. For you the bracelet is only ten Galleons.”

“Oh, no, we couldn’t ask for special treatment,” Harry said right away.

“Now don’t be hasty, Harry,” Ron frowned. “Maybe they have a policy here, a celebrity discount or something.”

“Exactly,” the blonde smiled. “I’ve never met real celebrities before.” She continued to stare at Ron, who became increasingly uncomfortable.

Looking into the case, Harry pointed at an unusual item. “What is that?”

Taking her attention from Ron, the girl reached in and pulled out a small pin. It was Celtic love knot in gold and silver colors. The intricate pattern was unlike Harry had ever seen. It was masculine and delicate at the same time. Not unlike Draco.

“This story behind this one doesn’t have such a happy ending,” The clerk told Harry. She turned it over. “It was commissioned by a young wizard about thirty years ago to give to his would-be lover. The pattern was an original design by the artist. See how there are actually two pins on the back?”

Harry and Ron nodded.

“It’s designed to open up and come apart, so both lovers can wear a part of it.”

“Sort of like those muggle necklaces that are heart shaped, and each person wears half of the heart?” Harry guessed.

“Yes,” the girl said. “Occasionally we’ll get muggle items in here. I’ve seen one of those that you’re talking about. But this one is magical, of course. The story goes that when he gave the pin as a gift, it wouldn’t open. It meant that his love wasn’t truly returned.”

“It will only open when the both are in love?” Harry asked.

Ron smiled. “Well, it will open for Mione. Can I see it?” Ron held out his hand.

The clerk giggled. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t open for her.”

“What do you mean? Mione loves me.” He paused. “Right Harry?”

“Of course she does,” he assured Ron. “Why wouldn’t it open for her, though?”

The clerk went on to explain, “It’s a tie pin. For a man. Actually, it’s two tie pins. It’s for a man to give another man.”

“Oh,” Ron grumbled. “Forget it then.”

The girl returned it to the case.

“Just out of curiosity, how much is that one?”

Without missing a beat, the clerk answered, “Sixty Galleons.”

Ron gave out a whistle. “That’s pretty steep.”

“It’s gold and platinum,” the blonde explained. “Of course I’d give you a discount, but I don’t suppose either of you are interested.”

“No, thanks anyway,” Harry smiled.

“I suppose that’s why no one’s bought it? Too expensive for a second-hand shop,” Ron commented.

“Actually, it’s been purchased twice since the man sold it here. It has never opened.”

“Well, what do you think, Ron? Are you going to buy that for Mione?” Harry gestured to the bracelet in Ron’s hand.

“Ten Galleons, you say?”

The girl nodded.

“I’ll take it.”

Ron and Harry left the shop with the clerk waving wildly behind them. She’d given Ron the discount, but the boys were asked to autograph a post card for her. It was a small price to pay.

“Too bad you’re seeing Hermione,” Harry grinned.

“What? Why’s that?”

“That girl couldn’t keep her eyes off you.”

Ron scowled. “Yeah, once she knew who I was. Before that, she barely glanced my way while she was talking about this bracelet.”

They sat on a bench near the shop and decided where to go next. Ron wanted to add a charm or two to the bracelet before he gave to Hermione. To personalize it a bit. Harry was getting hungry and in need of something to perk him up a bit. He was still exhausted from lack of sleep the night before.

As they sat, butterflies began churning in Harry’s stomach while he gathered the nerve to tell Ron what he had set out to that day.

“So, did you have another date last night? I didn’t see you at the party,” Ron beat him to the topic.

Harry nodded. “It didn’t go so well,” he answered. “I cocked it up already.”

“My advice? Apologize straightaway. Even if you don’t think you’re wrong. And give her chocolates or flowers or something.”

“Ron, I want to tell you something,” Harry said.

“You gonna tell me who it is, finally?” Ron smiled.

“Not yet,” Harry said. “But I need to tell you something important.”

Waiting patiently for Harry to say what he needed to say, Ron glanced around the courtyard they were sitting in.

Harry took the opportunity while Ron was not looking at him to make his confession. Taking a deep breath, he finally burst out with it.

“It’s not a girl.”

Ron turned to Harry. “Huh?”

Harry inwardly groaned. He didn’t want to have to repeat himself and explain more than necessary.

“The person I’m seeing is not a girl.” Harry held his breath.

Ron turned away, as if in deep thought. 

Not able to hold his breath any longer, Harry let out a short sigh and heaved in a long breath. He thought it best not to say any more until Ron had a chance to absorb and process what Harry told him.

Suddenly, Ron turned back to him. “Okay, well, I guess flowers are out then. But I still think chocolates will work. Everybody likes chocolates. Right?”

Harry blinked. Ron seemed to be taking the news awfully well. “Ron, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m dating a _guy_.”

“Yes, I figured that out when you said it wasn’t a girl,” Ron snickered. “I’m not as stupid as I look, you know.”

“I don’t know, you look pretty stupid,” Harry joked. “But seriously, you don’t have anything to say?”

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to try and talk you out of it? You want me to yell at you? Or tell you I’m shocked and disgusted? Or maybe you were thinking I was just going to walk away and not talk to you at all.”

Harry was at a loss for words at Ron’s rant. He didn’t really want any of those things to happen, but he thought they might.

“Of course not. I, I didn’t expect you to simply carry on as if nothing has changed, though.”

“Nothing has,” Ron told him. “At least not from where I’m standing. And frankly, Harry, I’ve sort of suspected it for a while.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed. “What do you mean, you’ve suspected for a while? I’ve only_ just_ figured it out myself.”

“Really?” Ron’s eyebrows raised and his nose wrinkled up. He laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“That I figured something out before you did. Especially something like _that_. That never happens.” Ron smiled. “You almost gave it away yesterday morning. I just about had you with that minger comment.”

“You were just goading me?”

“Sorry. I was trying to get you to say something. The first time you said you liked _this person_, I knew it wasn’t a girl. Didn’t you notice how many times I said she or her? I was waiting for you to correct me.”

Frowning, Harry sat and pouted a moment before finally asking Ron, “So, what made you think I fancied blokes?”

“Oh, um, well, for one, all the girls that were after you. You never seemed all that interested. I would’ve grabbed on to a bit of that myself. If I wasn’t with Mione, of course.”

“Hmm.”

“And you and Ginny never seemed quite right to me. I mean, as friends, sure. But . . .”

“You never said anything. Is that all?”

“No.” Ron hesitated. “I’ve noticed you watching the Quidditch players a bit.”

“I like Quidditch.” Harry shrugged.

“In the showers.”

“Oh.”

“And, when you were so obsessed with what Malfoy was doing sixth year,” Ron chuckled. “You were always staring at him. I thought maybe you had a thing for him. Can you imagine?” He burst out laughing and smacked Harry on the back.

“Ha,” Harry tried to laugh. “Imagine that,” he said nervously.

The ginger’s laughter faded. “Oh, fuck,” he said quietly. Ron really wasn’t as stupid as he looked.

“So, yeah,” Harry bit his lip.

The silence was overwhelming. While Ron may have suspected Harry of being gay, or at least bi, he had never really seriously considered that he may have been interested in Draco Malfoy.

After a while, Ron spoke slowly. “And, um, Malfoy, um, likes you now?” He was clearly uneasy. “Harry, do you really think you can trust him?”

“We’ve talked, a lot. About a lot of things. I think we’re pretty much past all that. Did I tell you that even Pansy apologized for trying to hand me over to Voldemort?”

Ron’s eyebrows raised. “Really. I can’t imagine her apologizing to anyone.” It suddenly occurred to Ron that Harry said the date didn’t go well. “Wait, so you said you messed it up already? What did you do?” He wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know any details. In fact, he definitely didn’t want any details. But they’d always talked about everything, so he asked.

Harry blushed, but forced himself to tell Ron. “It was what I _didn’t_ do.”

Furrowing his brow, not quite comprehending, Ron questioned, “What didn’t you do?”

The look Harry gave Ron said, _really, do you have to ask? _as he raised an eyebrow.

“Merlin, Harry, I don’t want to know about_ that_ stuff,” Ron cried.

Laughing, Harry agreed, “Good. ‘Cause I don’t want to tell you about that stuff.” His mood turned more serious. “Are you going to be okay with all of this?”

“I won’t lie and say I’m happy about it,” Ron said honestly. “But I guess he’s not so bad anymore. He did give me good advice.” Ron held up the bag from the second-hand shop. Then he remembered the Halloween dance. “Blimey, was that you dressed up like a cowboy or something?”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I was an outlaw. I wanted to have my whole face covered and that was the only thing I could think of. So, you knew it was Draco with the blue hair?”

“Not for sure, but I suspected. I never would have guessed it was you with him, though.”

Harry had no idea Ron had noticed him kissing Draco, but he was pleased to find out that even his best friend didn’t know it was him.

Ron and Harry continued their shopping trip along Diagon Alley, not speaking another word of Harry’s confession. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from Harry’s shoulders. He should have known Ron would always have his back. And he would have Ron’s. The pair grabbed a bite to eat then headed to Olivander’s newly reopened shop. A thirteen and one quarter inch willow wand with a dragon heartstrings core had chosen Harry. He left the shop pleased with his purchase, once again having his very own wand, rather than a borrowed one. Harry couldn’t wait to return to Hogwarts and cast a few spells.

He decided he would wrap Colin’s wand in a cloth and put it in his trunk, rather than return it to McGonagall. For some reason, Harry felt he would be abandoning the wand, and indirectly, Colin, if he did.

hdhdhd

Back in Gryffindor, Hermione waited anxiously for the boys to return.

“Everything all right?” she asked when she saw them.

Ron looked between Harry and Hermione. “Yep,” he said. “I just wish, one time, the two of you didn’t feel like you had to keep things from me.”

“Ron–” Hermione started.

“It wasn’t hers to tell,” Harry interrupted. “It’s my fault. And you’re right, Ron. I shouldn’t keep things from you, ever. Are we okay?”

Ron’s expression softened. “Like I could ever stay mad at either one of you for long.”

“I hope the same goes for Draco,” Harry said mindlessly. Then realizing he’d said it out loud, blushed.

Ron shifted on his feet.

“I’m sorry. You two don’t want to hear about that.”

“Of course we do,” Hermione assured him. “We’d want to hear about it no matter who you’re dating.”

“Actually, I don’t want to talk about it anyway,” Harry glanced around awkwardly.

“Are you embarrassed?” Hermione cocked her head to the side, puzzled.

“No. Well, maybe a little. Yes.”

“You find it embarrassing to admit you’re smitten with Draco?”

“Mione, you can see that he is. If Harry doesn’t want to talk about it, then we should respect that.” Ron had his own motives for his rant. He and Harry would talk about girls over the years, often in a less than respectful manner. Ron himself went on and on about the Greengrass girls and their physical attributes. And when Harry got cornered by Daphne near the library, Ron was eager to hear details. Harry seemed more than willing to comply. However, Ron was not eager to hear about Draco’s, or any other boy’s, physical attributes.

“But that’s what people do. They drone on about how wonderful their crush is. And their friends listen.”

“Really, Mione. I’m good.”

“Harry, you shouldn’t be ashamed of being gay.”

“I’m not. Gay, that is. God, I hate that word.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe this is a phase.”

“A phase?” Ron queried. “Is he the first . . . uh, boy?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “So maybe it’s just a phase I’m going through. After breaking up with Ginny.”

“Is that how you feel when you’re with him?” Hermione asked, knowing that not only Harry, but Ron as well, was becoming extremely ill-at-ease with the conversation.

Briefly, when Harry thought about the time spent with Draco, his walls came down. “No. It feels . . . right. Natural. Good.” In an instant, his defenses were back up. “I don’t know. It’s a lot to get used to. It’s so strange and new. I mean, I grew up hearing about how disgusting the poofters were.”

“Your aunt and uncle are rather conservative, aren’t they?” Hermione pointed out.

“That’s an understatement. Uncle Vernon used to say that the only thing worse than a wizard was a woofter. And a wizard woofter was the worst.” Harry laughed at his alliteration. “When Dudley was old enough to understand what it meant, he joined his father in calling me a little fairy. Just because I wasn’t a big beefy thing like them. Dudley and his friends used to beat up an openly gay boy down the street.”

Hermione had a theory. “Harry, did you consider that maybe it’s not really new?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve probably always had propensity for, um, homosexuality. Maybe your uncle noticed. It could be that his derogatory comments have made you repress your true feelings. Now that you’re free of him completely, they’re resurfacing.”

Harry frowned. “You’re saying, it’s like he talked me out of it. Or, more like, scared it out of me?”

Hermione nodded. “It’s possible.”

“Do you think then, that I never really liked girls? Did I talk myself into that? This is all so confusing.”

Shrugging, Hermione surmised, “I don’t know. You have pursued several girls. You’ll have to think on that one yourself. But in the meantime, what are you going to do about Malfoy? Don’t let him persuade you into something you’re not ready for. Darn it, did I call him Malfoy again? I just can’t remember to call him Draco,” she berated herself.

“We have to call him Draco?” Ron sneered. “He’s never called me anything but Weasley or Weasel. Well, and a few other choice words.”

“And you’ve called him ferret. We’ll all have to get over it, for Harry sake,” Hermione insisted.

Students began walking past the trio on their way to supper.

“Ooh, time to eat,” Ron smacked his lips.

“We had a late lunch. How can you be hungry?” Harry asked in disbelief. “You’re always hungry. Why are you always hungry?” 

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe all the Quidditch practice.” He slipped his arm around Hermione’s waist. “Or other activities.”

“Oi, Ron, remember the stuff you didn’t want to hear about? I don’t either.”

hdhdhd

“Harry, instead of just staring over there, go talk to him,” Hermione snapped her fingers in Harry’s face.

“I can’t. Not in front of everyone,” he sighed.

“Where’s your Gryffindor courage?” Hermione implored.

Harry shot her a look.

“Aren’t you working on a paper together for History of Magic?”

“So?”

“So, go over and suggest you work on it in the library. You can talk there,” Hermione smirked.

Harry thought about it. “That’s not a bad idea,” Harry conceded.

“Go on,” Hermione urged. “I can’t watch you brood any longer.”

Tentatively, Harry stood up and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. It seemed there was always someone interested in what he was doing. A couple kids glanced at him, but he steeled himself and began to walk over to the Slytherin table.

“Uh, Malfoy, we need to finish that biography paper for History.”

“Oh?” Draco looked up and raised an elegant eyebrow at Harry. “Is that so?” he said with his usual haughty attitude.

“It’s due Wednesday,” Harry reminded him.

Draco turned in his seat and stretched his arms behind his back. “I don’t know. I promised Pansy I’d play chess with her.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, if you’d rather continue to work on things _alone_ . . .” Harry managed to keep a straight face as he turned away.

The corner of Draco’s mouth raised, just a bit. “All right,” he called after Harry. “I suppose we should work on that paper. Sorry Pans.”

Harry turned back around. “Library. Half-seven.” He didn’t wait for Draco’s response, and walked back to his table.

Siting back down, Harry noticed Hermione and Ron staring at him expectedly. He picked up a bun and bit off a chunk.

“What?” he asked, his mouth full.

“What happened?” Ron asked. He found himself curious, despite his earlier protests about too much information.

“We’re going to meet in the library at half-seven.”

“Like you and Daphne?” Ron couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled up.

“No,” Harry insisted. “We really do have to finish our paper.”

“And talk. Don’t let him sidetrack you,” Hermione warned. “And don’t let him talk you into things before you’re ready. You’re in a fragile stage right now.”

Harry sighed heavily. “I plan on getting there early and setting up. Just so there’s no confusion.” Harry suddenly felt like a girl getting lectured on giving in to pressure from a boyfriend.

“Good,” Hermione was satisfied.

“Someday, Hermione, you’re going to make an excellent mother,” Harry muttered sarcastically.


	13. the potions room

November 1 1998

Harry’s mind wandered as he sat in the eerily quiet library. He had arrived at seven and gotten out the books and parchment he and Draco had been using to write their essay on Bowman Wright. The inventor of the Golden Snitch was one of the few wizards both boys agreed to research.

He spent most of the previous hour thinking about Hermione’s theory. It was plausible, at the very least. Not to mention the fact that he’d never really had the time to be an average teenaged boy and consider such mundane things such as a love life. His hand had been his closest companion until Ginny. And even then, they hadn’t been overly affectionate. Perhaps Ginny had been one of those things he did because he thought he was supposed to. She never stirred in him the same sort of passion that Draco did. Not that Harry had acted upon it much. He would have to change that.

Around seven-twenty, Harry was just finishing up the fifth paragraph of their paper. It took him a full twenty minutes as he struggled to make his handwriting as neat as Draco’s. A throat cleared in front of him. He looked up to see Draco standing with his black bag strung on his shoulder.

“You showed,” Harry stated the obvious.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Draco frowned.

“I thought maybe you were still angry with me.” Butterflies began to churn as Harry gazed up at Draco. 

“I told you I wasn’t angry, just disappointed.”

Harry swallowed trying to wet his dry throat. He felt as if he had led Draco on the night before. Well, he had, but hadn’t meant to. Like the first time Draco tried to kiss him, Harry chickened out. Looking at him now, Harry didn’t understand why he had.

“Did you finish it without me?” The blond motioned to the paperwork in front of Harry.

“I left the conclusion for you to write,” Harry told him. “My hand is cramping up.” He flexed his hand a few times to drive home the point.

Draco sat down next to him and opened his bag, retrieving his quill. He glanced at Harry’s hand, which he was still stretching. Biting his lip, Draco slowly edged his own hand over to it. He hesitated and looked around the empty library before taking Harry’s hand. 

He gently massaged it for several minutes, while Harry watched wordlessly. No one had ever done that before, and Harry strangely found the simple gesture to be more erotic than a wank. He didn’t realize how heavy his breathing had become until Draco whispered his name. 

Lifting his eyes to meet Draco’s, Harry moved forward and grasped the back of Draco’s hair with his free hand. He pulled Draco closer and kissed him. Eager to reciprocate, Draco released Harry’s hand and clutched his shoulders instead. Forgetting where they were, the pair snogged while doing their best to get their bodies up against one another in the unforgiving library chairs.

“Getting loads of work done, I see,” a voice chided.

Harry nearly fell off his chair, trying to back away from Draco. Draco actually did fall onto the floor.

“Mione, jeez. You scared the shit out of me” Harry yelled.

She giggled at their reaction. “You’re lucky it was me and not anybody else.”

“Nobody but you comes to the library on a Sunday night.” Harry smoothed his shirt out and tried to press down his hair.

Draco, on the other hand seemed to revel in his disarray. He grinned widely at Hermione as he picked up his chair and sat down. “Perhaps we ought to call it a night, Potter.” He began to gather up the parchments and put them in his black bag. “I’ll copy this onto our essay before Wednesday.”

“Oh, don’t let me ruin your evening,” Hermione chirped. “I just came in to exchange my books before the library closes. Some of us came here to get some actual work done.” She smiled to herself and walked to a different section of the library.

Harry and Draco looked at each other, then burst out laughing. They quickly gathered their things and left the library together.

“Well . . . goodnight then, I guess,” Draco said.

“Wait,” Harry stopped him from leaving. “It’s still early.” 

Grinning, Draco tugged on Harry’s sleeve and began dragging him. “Come with me. But be quiet.”

Draco led them down to the dungeons, near Slytherin. He put his finger to his lips, motioning for Harry to be extra quiet as they approached Draco’s House. Two students unexpectedly came out into the corridor, but they were too busy giggling to see Harry and Draco squashed against the wall behind a pillar.

When the coast was clear, Draco led them to the Potions classroom.

“What are we doing here?” Harry asked.

“There’s room in the back of the class. We can . . . talk.”

Harry knew that wasn’t quite what Draco had in mind, but he seemed to understand that Harry needed to take things at his own pace.

While Draco magically locked the door and set a silencing charm, Harry conjured up a soft pad and a few pillows. They set their things aside and sat down.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Harry smiled.

“Um, I don’t know,” Draco shrugged. “So, Granger’s all right with _us_?”

“And Ron.” 

Eyes widening, Draco gaped. “Merlin, what did _he_ have to say?” Draco laughed at what he imagined Ron’s reaction to be.

“Actually, Ron was pretty cool about the whole thing,” Harry told him. He furrowed his brow. “He said he sort of knew about me. He wasn’t surprised when I told him. What about your friends?”

“Pansy and Blaise? Oh, yeah. But they’ve known all along that I’m an equal opportunity shagger.” Draco grinned.

“I mean the part about me.”

“They’ve known about my infatuation for a little over a week.” He sniggered, “If they only knew it was actually–” Draco cut himself off.

“Actually what?” Harry urged him to continue.

“Years,” Draco said quietly.

Harry smiled a little to himself. He knew it was unfair for him to ask Draco to share his feelings while he still wavered. But it sure felt good to hear.

Draco cleared his throat. “Well, _your_ friends are all right with this. _My_ friends are all right with this. I know what _I_ want. You seem to be the only one unsure about it.” He lightly grasped Harry’s chin, his piercing grey eyes holding Harry’s gaze. “I want you. You need to decide whether or not you want me.”

Wasting no time, or words, Harry dove at Draco and kissed him. Draco hurriedly snaked his hands up under Harry’s shirt and gently pushed him onto his back. Before Harry could protest, the blond tugged at the shirt to pull it off. Raising his arms up, Harry allowed Draco to remove his t-shirt. With slight hesitation, the Slytherin reached for the button of his crush’s jeans. When he encountered no resistance, Draco slowly unzipped the fly.

“Are you . . . are you going to let me touch you?” Draco breathed shakily. The anticipation was tightening his belly and he was becoming aroused just thinking about doing wicked things to Harry.

“Yes. Touch me, Draco,” Harry whispered.

Kissing his way down Harry’s body, Draco yanked the jeans down. Harry removed his socks and shoes while Draco moved on to the pants. He was practically drooling by the time the pants were gone and Harry lay before him, nude and very much aroused.

“Magnificent,” Draco murmured.

Harry reached for the buttons on Draco’s shirt, but was stopped in his tracks by the sensation of Draco’s mouth around his cock.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Harry’s back arched.

Expertly sucking and rolling his tongue, Draco delivered on his earlier promise to make Harry feel good. Though Harry had received oral sex before, Ginny hadn’t known so precisely what would bring him the most pleasure. He supposed it was knowing first-hand what felt good that made Draco so good at it.

Harry’s moans urged Draco on, his hands wandering as much of Harry’s body as he could reach. He felt Harry’s hand on his back, clutching at his shirt. Draco turned his head enough to see the Gryffindor’s face as he groaned and grunted in time with Draco’s sucking. Harry’s eyes were closed and his mouth agape. He looked divinely blissful to the Slytherin prince.

“Oh, Draco,” Harry murmured. “I’m gonna cum soon.”

The grasp on Draco’s shirt tightened and the blond knew Harry wasn’t going to last much longer. He cradled Harry’s bollocks and used his other hand to stroke the lower half of Harry’s cock as he slurped the head.

“Fuck. Now,” Harry breathlessly called out. “Look out.”

The first jet hit the back of Draco’s throat, triggering him to swallow. He tried his best to keep up with subsequent sprays, but it was too much and jizz began to drip out of the corner of Draco’s mouth and down his chin.

Draco moaned in pleasure nearly as much as Harry through the climax. Afterward, Harry lay in post-orgasmic languor, his body tingling right down to his toes. Gradually, his breathing slowed, and his mind came back into focus. He opened his eyes to witness Draco stroking himself wildly. Trousers mid-thigh, bum exposed, Draco was bridged across Harry’s body grunting and panting.

Laying a hand on Draco’s back, Harry whispered his name. The hand traveled down to the bare skin on Draco’s baby soft arse.

“Ah. Mm.” The Slytherin released a healthy amount of cum onto Harry’s already cum-dribbled lower belly. He slowed down the stroking and rubbed his penis in the mess, mixing both boys’ jizz together.

“Draco,” Harry sighed. He was mesmerized. He’d never seen another man cum.

“Fuck, that felt good,” Draco smiled.

“I thought you were tired of wanking alone?” Harry pointed out.

“I’m sorry,” Draco stopped smiling. “I didn’t think you were ready to, to, you know, do what I did. And I couldn’t help it. You had me going so much, I had to cum.”

Smiling, Harry was pleased that he had that effect on Draco. “But next time, I want to do that.”

“You do?”

Biting his lip, Harry replied. “You looked like you enjoyed it. Do you think I will?”

“I enjoyed it immensely,” Draco grinned, licking leftover cum from his face where his tongue could reach.

“You swallowed?”

“As much as I could, anyway,” Draco laughed. “Merlin, you could knock up three girls at once with that amount of cum.”

Without pulling up his trousers, Draco lay down next to Harry on the soft pad and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to.”

“Huh?” Draco asked. “Don’t want to, what?”

“Be with any more girls,” Harry answered. “I only want you. I . . . yeah, I only want you.” He turned and kissed the side of Draco’s head. Draco lifted his face up to Harry’s.

“I only want you too.”

“Now what?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Should we keep this secret? Or should we just do what we want to do?”

Lifting up on his elbow, the blond questioned Harry. “You want to keep it a secret, don’t you?”

“Maybe for a little while,” the Gryffindor sheepishly answered. “Until I get a bit more comfortable. I mean, I’m still sort of awkward about all of this with Hermione and Ron. You understand, don’t you?”

“I know it’s different for you. Most of my House already knows I’m bi. Lots of other students, as well. They wouldn’t think much of me seeing another man. But the Chosen One, a poufter? That’s going to take some getting used to for people.”

Harry wasn’t certain, but Draco’s tone seemed a little sarcastic. “Are you sure you understand?”

Draco’s demeanor softened. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just annoying that people have stereotypes about homosexuality. I don’t want anyone to think badly of you because of me. We shouldn’t have to hide it.”

“It’s only until I figure out how to come out. I can’t just make an announcement at supper,” Harry snickered.

“That would be pretty funny actually.” Draco cleared his throat and attempted to imitate Harry’s voice. “Excuse me everyone, I know you all think I’m a manly hero that saved all of your sorry arses, but really I’m just a queen that likes to wear pink and pick wildflowers. Sorry to have disappointed.”

Harry slapped his bare bum. “Don’t make fun. I really do like the color pink,” he laughed. “And you forgot to mention the part that I adore getting hummers from the sexiest mouth in Slytherin. That would be you, in case you weren’t sure.”

“I suppose it will be sort of fun to have our own secret for a while. And exciting, wondering whether or not we’ll get caught.” Draco winked.

“Thank you. I swear, it’s only for a little while.” Harry kissed Draco. “Salty. But not unpleasant.”

“That’s you. I’m sure I’m bitter as hell,” Draco joked. “I wonder what time it is.”

Reaching into his jeans for his dented pocket watch, Harry answered. “Ten minutes before ten.”

Draco bolted up. “Way past curfew.” He pulled his wand from the side pocket on his jeans and performed a Scourgify on both of them, then proceeded to pull up his trousers. Harry stole a glance at Draco’s package as it disappeared behind the denim. He dressed, then Vanished the pillows and pad, while Draco removed the silencing and locking charms. The pair gathered their belongings and peered into the corridor. Finding it empty, they stepped out of the Potions classroom.

“See you tomorrow,” Harry said.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Draco repeated.

A quick kiss, and Harry took off down the corridor in the opposite direction from Draco. Draco stood watching long after he could no longer see Harry’s form in the darkness. For a moment, he thought he imagined the entire evening. There was no way the Boy Who Lived could really want him.

Draco sighed and leisurely made his way to his House, just down the hall.

hdhdhd

“Where have you been? The library closed two hours ago.” Hermione, as usual, was waiting up for her friend. Ron was in the common room as well, but he was busy reading Dragon Magazine. He really wasn’t concerned about Harry at all.

“Mione, he’s a big boy. And do you _really_ want to know where he’s been all this time?”

She shot Ron a look, but answered, “No, I suppose not, but I was getting worried.”

“Hermione, I’m eighteen,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you were this concerned with what I was doing when I was twelve.”

“Well, back then I was only concerned about you and Malfoy hexing one another.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice. “And now you’re worried about us doing other things to each other?”

Hermione blushed. “No, I’m not worried about that. Although, you should definitely take care there.” She cleared her throat and whispered, “It’s your heart that concerns me.”

“My heart?” Harry instinctively looked down at his chest.

“Things seem to be moving fairly quickly between you and Draco.”

He chuckled. “Not according to him. But really, Hermione, you act as if I’m in love or something.”

“Ugh,” Ron involuntarily uttered.

“Sorry.”

“What I’m getting at is, are you certain he’s being genuine with you? He’s not toying with you, is he? I don’t want to see you get hurt by this. You need to protect yourself,” Hermione clarified.

“He’s changed. We both have. We talk, like normal people, like friends.” Harry tried to convince his friends.

“But it is a possibility. After all, you’d been enemies for so long.” Ron added, cringing the slightest bit.

Hermione nodded in agreement.

“I suppose it is a possibility,” Harry conceded, with a bit of sadness in his voice.

“Oh, I’m just being overly cautious,” Hermione tried to wave off her fears. “I’m sure you’re right. Trust your instincts Harry.”

By then, Harry’s instincts had fled. And doubts had taken their place.

hdhdhd

Draco was walking into his dormitory, a sly grin on his face.

“What’s got you grinning like that?” Blaise asked.

“Potter,” Draco responded matter-of-factly.

“Oh? Things going well?”

“Perfectly,” Draco said. “It’s only a matter of time before he falls for me. I can see that he wants to. He just needs to let go.”

Draco collapsed onto his bed and touched his fingers to his lips.

“Watch it there, Dra,” Blaise warned. “It looks like he’s not the only one in danger of falling.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco snapped at his best friend. “I’m simply putting on a good show. And then, I’ll be in a position to get that so-called Chosen One back for every humiliating thing he’s ever done to me.”

Blaise chuckled. “Let the games begin.”


	14. what dreams may come

November 17 1998

_Draco was walking into his dormitory, a sly grin on his face._

_ “What’s got you grinning like that?” Blaise asked._

_ “Potter,” Draco responded matter-of-factly._

_ “Oh? Things going well?”_

_ “Perfectly,” Draco said. “In fact, I think he’s starting to fall for me.”_

_ Draco collapsed onto his bed and touched his fingers to his lips._

_ “Watch it there, Dra,” Blaise warned. “It looks like he’s not the only one in danger of falling.”_

_ “Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco snapped at his best friend. “I would never fall for the Chosen One.”_

_ “Never say never, mate.”_

_ “I’m just putting on a good show.”_

_ Blaise chuckled. “But it’ll be fun while it lasts.”_

Harry bolted upright in bed, breathing heavily and sweating.

A groggy voice called from across the room. “Harry? You all right there?”

Wiping his brow, Harry took a moment to gather himself. “Yeah, yeah. I just had a bad dream is all.”

“You sure?” Ron was already beginning to fall back asleep.

“Yeah. Go back to sleep,” Harry said.

Harry got up and went to the windowsill. The same one at which he’d spent so much time in his years at Hogwarts. It was a good thinking place. He was thinking about the dream. The dream he had three times prior. Or variations of it. It was slightly different each time.

It was always Draco and Blaise. They were always talking about Harry as if he were a mark they were scamming. Draco’s behavior didn’t give Harry any real reason to be suspicious, but the dreams wouldn’t let up. And Harry had learned that his dreams usually meant something.

For weeks now, Harry had been having dreams in which Draco told Blaise he was setting Harry up for a fall. Harry hadn’t said anything to anyone, especially not Draco. He couldn’t help wonder if the dreams were a reflection on himself or his secret suitor.

Of course, the last time he had disturbingly vivid dreams, his mind was connected to Voldemort’s. And they hadn’t been dreams so much as actual events. This time, though, he was relatively certain no one was inside his mind with him. Snape had made sure Harry learned the basics of Occlumency. He wasn’t proficient by any stretch of the imagination, but he was certainly good enough to be able to detect another student’s attempts at Legilimency. 

Harry felt shame at even suggesting to himself that Draco would deceive him in such a way. His lover, almost lover, had been nothing but patient. He’d let Harry take the relationship at his own pace. And on more than one occasion, he’d left Draco frustrated. He knew his partner was tired of sneaking around, yet he didn’t pressure Harry. But the dreams had to mean something.

Padding back to his bed, Harry lay down and tried to will himself to dream about something more pleasant. Fortunately, he didn’t dream about Draco duping him. Unfortunately, it was because he didn’t sleep at all the rest of the night.

hdhdhd

November 18 1998

“Harry, are you sick?” Ginny asked as she sat next to him at breakfast. “Your eyes look awful.”

“Gee, thanks, Gin. Why don’t you tell me I’m fat and stupid while you’re at it,” Harry snarled. “You’re looking sort of pasty yourself.”

Ginny lowered her head. “I was only concerned.”

“I’m sorry, Gin. I didn’t sleep well last night.” Harry propped his head on hand and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, you woke me up,” Ron remembered. “You said you had a bad dream. You’re not dreaming about . . . you know who again, are you?”

“No, it wasn’t about Voldemort.” Harry waved off the concerned looks. “It’s nothing. But I think I’ll skip Charms this morning and go back to bed. Would you mind telling Flitwick I’m sick?”

“Sure,” Ron shrugged.

Harry got up and made his way out of the Great Hall and back up toward Gryffindor. Before getting too far, though, he heard footsteps behind him.

“Harry,” Draco whispered as loudly as a whisper could be.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked as he turned around.

“Crikey, what happened to you?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep well last night,” Harry snapped.

“Again? Harry, you haven’t been sleeping well for a while now.”

“I’m fine. You should go before someone sees you talking to me.”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “So, now I’m not allowed to even talk to you in public? Isn’t that sort of going backwards? I thought we were working toward being out in the open.”

Harry sighed. “Draco, I don’t have the energy for this right now. We’ll talk on Friday in the Potions room.” He turned and kept walking to his dormitory without looking back. All Harry could think about was sleep.

hdhdhd

November 20 1998

No dreams haunted Harry’s sleep for a couple of nights and by Friday, he was feeling rested and ready to talk with Draco. Unfortunately, Draco was still giving him somewhat of the silent treatment, talking only about class or superficial subjects.

Harry decided he needed to tell him about the dreams. Either Draco would be upset and try to convince Harry that the dreams don’t mean anything, or Harry would see deceit in his eyes. He’d be looking for both. And hoping for the best.

Arriving a bit earlier than usual for their Friday night rendezvous, Harry conjured the usual items–the soft mattress, pillows and candles. Harry especially liked the way Draco looked by candlelight. Not to mention, he figured it hid many of his own flaws.

He didn’t get worried when Draco was five or ten minutes late. Sometimes a Housemate would detain one of them. But when ten minutes turned to twenty, then twenty turned to forty-five, Harry knew something was wrong. Since the first wand party, they hadn’t missed a Friday night together.

Just in case, he decided to give it a full hour. When he felt the charms being disturbed, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Harry?”

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. “Hermione, what on Earth are you doing here?”

“I came to tell you that Draco isn’t coming.”

“What? Why? And how the hell did you know where to look for me? And how the bloody hell did you get in?”

“I sensed a silencing charm, but I think you forgot to lock the door,” she answered sheepishly.

Hermione glanced around at the romantic scene. She didn’t know why Draco decided not to show up, but she thought he was a fool if this was the way Harry always treated him.

“One of the Slytherin underclassmen brought a note by,” she told him.

“Oh, I knew there had to be a reason. Did he say what happened?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Actually, the note was from Pansy. And she wasn’t specific. The note only said that she couldn’t get Draco to leave.”

Frowning, Harry confessed to Hermione. “I wasn’t very nice to him the other day. You know, the day I skipped class. I guess he’s still upset.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione offered. “Why don’t you clean all this up and come back with me?”

Harry patted the pad next to him for Hermione to join him instead.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Me,” he answered. “Why can’t I make any relationships work? I’m bollocks at them.”

“You haven’t ruined your relationship with me. Or Ron. Or many other people,” she said optimistically.

“You know what I mean.” He paused, then decided to tell her about his dreams. “I haven’t been sleeping well because I’ve been having dreams. Nightmares, really. And it wasn’t just the other night. It’s been going on for a couple of weeks”

“About what?” She lowered her voice. “Voldemort?”

“No, no. Worse. I keep having a dream where Draco is talking to Blaise about me. He tells him he’s trying to get me to fall in love with him so he can humiliate me. So he can get me back for all the things I’ve done to him over the years.”

Hermione waited for more. When Harry was not forthcoming, she spoke. “And? Are you worried it’s true?”

“Mione, I’ve had dreams that came true before. What if this is the same?”

“Those so-called dreams you had before weren’t dreams at all, Harry. You saw what Voldemort saw, or planned. That wasn’t the same thing.”

“How do you know?”

“Has Draco given you any reason to think he’s insincere?”

“No, but–”

“Do you have any evidence at all to support the dreams?”

“Well, no. But I’ve learned to listen to them. Arthur Weasley was saved because of my dreams.”

“Again, that wasn’t really a dream. You don’t think you’re connected to Draco’s mind, do you? I mean, he’s powerful, but not that powerful.”

Harry bit his lip. “You’re right. I just can’t shake the feeling. What if I don’t deserve . . .”

Hermione put her arm around Harry’s shoulder. “It sounds like you’re feeling insecure. I think your dreams are simply a manifestation of your fears. Don’t give in to them. What does your heart tell you?”

“You told me to protect my heart.”

“Now I’m thinking that was bad advice,” Hermione admitted. “Forget what your head is telling you. What is your heart saying?”

Harry sat quietly for a few moments, pondering Hermione’s question. 

“This is the happiest I’ve been in a very long time,” he finally said. “I think, if I let myself, I could fall in love with him.”

“Then let yourself,” Hermione smiled. “Love is never wasted. And it might be returned. But even if this doesn’t work out. Even if he doesn’t love you back.” She muttered, “He’d be a fool,” under her breath. “You’ve learned something about yourself.”

“What’s that?”

“You _can _be happy. And, Harry, you do deserve love.”

hdhdhd

Upon returning to his dormitory, Harry reached under his bed and took out the box with the Verity Journal in it. He’d been afraid to write in it, though Draco gave it to him three weeks prior. Maybe it would help him sort out his feelings. Maybe it wouldn’t do any good at all. Harry figured he had nothing to lose. He wouldn’t be able to talk to Draco until tomorrow anyway. He drew a deep sigh and poised the quill over the first page.

_November 20 1998 _

_I have been having bad dreams about Draco for the past couple weeks._

So far, the journal recorded what Harry wrote as is.

_I was not very kind to him the other day and tonight he didn’t show for our usual meeting._

The word _meeting_ disappeared. Frowning, Harry thought to himself, _all right, the journal doesn’t like the word meeting. What am I supposed to write?_

He wrote in the word _date_. It stayed. Harry had to admit that they were dates. At least now, he knew how the journal worked. He continued.

_I’m not certain what the dreams mean_

_Not certain_ _what_ disappeared. 

Harry wrote in_ afraid of_

The journal added the word _that_ to the end of Harry’s sentence. Did the journal want him to finish it? It wasn’t precisely grammatically correct, but Harry got the idea.

_I’m afraid of the dreams mean that Draco will never love me_

This time the words _of_, _Draco_ and _never_ disappeared. Harry was becoming frustrated. It was difficult enough for Harry to write down his feelings. To have everything he wrote scrutinized was aggravating. He looked at the words on the page. _What am I supposed to write?_ he thought to himself.

“I know what you want me to write,” he said to the journal. “I’m not going to. I’m not that pathetic!” He slammed the book shut and tossed at the foot of his bed. He lay down at the other end. Draco warned him about the journal. It wasn’t taking half-truths. It was making Harry look into himself, deeper than he wanted to. He thought about his life. The first half, living with people who despised him, the second half with people who expected him to save them. He wondered if any of them really cared about _him._ He thought about his parents. They gave their lives for him. He was angry about that. At Voldemort, yes, for killing them. But also at them, for not running away and hiding. If they had done that, they could have raised Harry themselves. Sometimes he couldn’t understand why doing the noble thing was better than the cowardly thing. Did they not love him enough to bear the disgrace of not fighting? Wasn’t raising their son more important than honor? 

Tears stung Harry’s eyes. How could he possibly think those things of his parents? He was ashamed of himself. But sometimes we feel what we feel.

He sat up and reached for the journal. Picking up the quill, he wrote in the missing word.

_nobody_

Harry read the words again.

_I’m afraid the dreams mean that nobody will love me_


	15. a simple plan

November 21 1998

“Harry, you’re going to give yourself away if you don’t stop staring at Malfoy’s empty seat and moping,” Hermione said softly.

“I was hoping to talk to him this morning. But now it seems as though he’s avoiding me altogether.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe he simply overslept?”

Grumbling, Harry pushed food around his plate, stealing glances between the door and Draco’s vacant spot.

Hermione glanced around the Hall, noticing that it was more sparsely populated than usual that morning.

“Dean, where’s Ginny?” she asked.

“I stopped by her room to get her, but she said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“I heard the flu is going ‘round Ravenclaw,” Ron chimed in. “The sick ones aren’t allowed out of their dormitories.”

Suddenly, Harry slammed his fork down. “I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to see what happened.” He got up from his place and walked out of the Great Hall. Proceeding down toward the dungeons, Harry wasn’t sure what he would do once he got there. He wouldn’t be able to get into Slytherin on his own.

As fate would have it, Professor Slughorn was rounding the corner, whistling a happy tune.

“Oh, Harry my boy. What are you doing down here on a Saturday morning?” Slughorn smiled. It was nearly impossible not to return the gesture. “Did you come down to sneak a bit of potions practice as well? I’m sorry I don’t have time to supervise you right now.”

“Uh, oh, I was just . . .” Harry stammered for an excuse to be there.

“How did you boys find out about the big project already?”

“The big project,” Harry repeated.

“I wasn’t planning on announcing it until next week, so you’ll have to keep it to yourself. I imagine you’ll want Miss Granger for your partner. Big prize at the end.” He nudged Harry’s ribs.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said, going along with it. “I promise not to say anything.”

“Oh, but Harry,” Slughorn’s expression became serious. “Take care. You don’t want to end up like Mr. Malfoy.”

Eyes widening, Harry quickly asked, “What happened to Draco?”

“Don’t worry, Harry. He’ll be fine. Madame Pomfrey is taking good care of him. He was down here yesterday afternoon getting in a little extra practice. Put a bit too much pulverized hellabore into his potion. I’m afraid when he stirred it, he breathed in the puff of vapor.”

“Are you sure he’s all right?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Well, last I heard he’s still unconscious–”

“Unconscious??”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s as bad as it sounds.” The professor paused and furrowed his brow. “You’re awfully concerned, Harry. I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.”

“I’m just, uh, concerned for a fellow student is all.” Anxious to go to the hospital wing, Harry made his excuses and swiftly took off down the corridor, leaving Professor Slughorn scratching his head.

hdhdhd

Harry came to a screeching halt in front of the door to the hospital wing. He leaned a hand against the doorjamb to catch his breath. Slowly pushing the door open, Harry peeked inside. Only one bed was occupied. A blond head rested peacefully on the pillow.

Not seeing any sign of Madame Pomfrey, Harry tiptoed to Draco’s bed. The blond boy looked so much smaller than usual. Paler, too. Harry sat down in a chair beside him.

“Draco?” he whispered.

Draco didn’t stir.

“Draco? I hope you’re all right. I . . . was angry with you last night because you didn’t show. But I didn’t know something happened to you. I’m so sorry I snapped at you the other day. I hadn’t been sleeping well. It’s been going on for a couple of weeks. Bad dreams. I know they’re only dreams. At least that’s what Hermione says.” He took Draco’s hand in his. “But they have me worried.”

Harry rubbed his forehead. “I _need_ to talk to you. I need you to wake up. Please be all right. _Please_ wake up,” Harry begged.

“I’m awake, Potter,” a hoarse voice muttered.

“Were you awake the whole time?”

Draco smirked, his eyes still closed. “Maybe.” He opened his eyes and looked at Harry.

“What happened? Why were you in the Potions room? Slughorn said something about a project.”

Frowning, Draco answered, “I don’t know anything about a project. I was trying to make you a calming draught. You told me you’d been having trouble sleeping. I wanted to get it finished so I could bring it to you last night.”

“What went wrong?” Harry asked. It wasn’t like Draco to screw up a relatively simple potion. 

“I couldn’t remember how much hellabore I put in. I lost track because I was in a hurry. I finished the potion and brought it back to my room. I wasn’t feeling well and decided to take a nap. When Pansy came to check on me, I felt too dizzy to get up and asked Pans to send a message. Didn’t you get it?”

“Hermione came to get me around nine. Pansy’s note didn’t say anything about you being sick, though.”

Shaking his head, Draco simply said, “Pansy.” He sighed. “Anyway, at some point, I must have passed out and they brought me here.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a visitor. And you’re finally awake.” Madame Pomfrey’s voice startled the pair.

Draco tried to pull his hand away, but Harry held tight.

“She’s already seen,” Harry shrugged. “And you won’t tell anybody, right Madame Pomfrey?” He looked up at her hopefully.

“Tell anybody what?” She winked. “But you’ll have to leave Mr. Potter. I need to check on Mr. Malfoy. And he needs his rest.”

“Can I come back?”

“Maybe later. After supper,” she told him.

Harry released Draco’s hand and got up from the chair. He really wanted to kiss Draco. Even if it was just on his forehead. Though Madame Pomfrey had seen him holding Draco’s hand, Harry wasn’t willing to reveal any more of their relationship.

“Well, I’ll see you later, then,” Harry smiled. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“All right.”

Harry turned to walk away.

“Harry?” He turned back around. “Thanks for coming.”

hdhdhd

November 22 1998

Draco was released from the hospital wing Sunday afternoon. Blaise tried to celebrate with some butter beers, but Draco wisely declined. 

“Blaise, would you mind terribly switching partners in Potions?” Draco gathered up the courage to ask.

“What? You don’t want to be my partner anymore?” Blaise pouted.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be partners with you so much as I want to be partners with someone else.” Draco bit his lip.

“Potter?” Blaise rolled his eyes. “He’s not as good as I am, you know.”

Draco smiled. “I know. But, it’s one of the few classes we share, and I’d like to be his partner. Besides, he’s feeling a bit insecure lately.”

“What’s in it for me?” Blaise asked, in true Slytherin style.

“What do you want?”

“For starters, a good partner. I’ll not get stuck with Mandy Brocklehurst again. She’s total rubbish at Potions. And not Pansy either. Love her to death, but she treats Potions class like social hour. How about Granger?”

“I might be able to swing that,” Draco thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Although she may not want to give up Ginny as a partner. Weasley’s gotten better,” he said, referring to Ron.

“No. But I’d take his sister.”

“All right. I’ll see what I can do.” Knowing that wasn’t all Blaise would want in return, Draco asked, “What else?”

Grinning, Blaise looked pleased to be able to hold something over Draco’s head. “Hm. Let’s see. What _do_ I want?”

Sighing, Draco crossed his arms over his chest. He could see Blaise trying to come up with some outrageous request.

“Don’t fret, mate,” Blaise smiled. “All I want is a little bit of money so I can take Harper out.”

“You spent your allowance already?”

“Mum stopped sending it. Her new husband said I was too old to be getting allowance,” Blaise grumbled.

“Done,” Draco said, and held out his hand for a gentleman’s shake.

“Remember, I want a good partner,” Blaise reminded his friend.

Draco nodded. Now all he had to do was convince Harry’s friends to all switch partners. Piece of cake.

hdhdhd

November 23 1998

Draco had a plan. He and Blaise would pretend to have a fight. Blaise would go looking for a new Potions partner and somehow, Harry would have to convince one of his friends to take on Blaise. He just didn’t have any idea how to pull off his plan.

On the way out of breakfast, Draco caught up to Harry in the corridor. He subtly passed Harry a note explaining his scheme as he walked silently beside him. He wanted the partner switch to occur before Slughorn announced the new project. Granger might not be willing to switch once she found out about it.

Out of the side of his mouth, Harry said, “You look much better today.”

“I feel better.” Draco gave him a wink and hurried on ahead of Harry. 

Once in Charms class, Harry opened the note and read it. He liked the idea of working on the project with Draco. Not that Ron wasn’t a perfectly fine partner, but the thought of spending long hours with Draco under the guise of schoolwork was brilliant. Harry frowned when he read the part about Hermione exchanging Ginny for Blaise. That would take some convincing on his part. Not to mention, he’d most likely have to tell Ginny why. He’d been avoiding that.

“Something wrong, Harry? What’s that you’re reading?” Hermione asked, always curious.

“Um.” Harry decided to come out with it and be honest. He glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “It’s a note from Draco,” he said quietly. “He wants me to switch partners with Blaise for Potions.

“But that would leave Ron with Blaise. They barely know one another.”

“Actually, Blaise wants to work with you.”

“Me?”

“Or Ginny. He’s good at potion making, really.”

“You expect me to give up Ginny and compromise my grades just so you can cozy up to Draco in class?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Well, yes,” he laughed. “But if you can convince Ginny to work with Zabini, you could cozy up to Ron.” Harry looked around again to make sure no one was listening in. “There’s a project coming up. I get the impression it’s a big one. Slughorn accidentally told me. Please Hermione, will you do this? I’ll even help you with your project if you want.”

Hermione sighed. Harry looked like a puppy begging for food. How was she supposed to resist that?

“You’re going to have to tell Ginny.”

“Not if you ask her to switch. Tell her you and Ron really want to partner up. She’ll understand. Draco and Blaise are going to have some sort of argument, leaving them both looking for partners.”

“Sounds complicated. And you’re going to have to tell Ginny sooner or later.”

“I’ll opt for later.”

“Coward. How on earth did you get into Gryffindor?” Hermione joked.

During Charms, Harry penned a note back to Draco telling him that Hermione was willing to try and convince Ginny to work with Blaise. But first she was going to drop hints that she wanted to work with Ron. It wouldn’t take much to persuade Ron. Hermione was better at potion making than Harry. And Hermione was much prettier. Hopefully it would all fall into place and by the time the project was announced Harry and Draco would be sitting side by side.

hdhdhd

November 26 1998

Blaise and Draco walked into Potions that day arguing. They had been nitpicking one another all week, putting on a fair show for everyone. The irony was that this day’s argument had been real, and they hadn’t planned to have their public falling out until the next day. It seemed that Draco was growing weary of being locked out of his own room by Blaise and Harper. Especially without notice. The boys had been arguing about it since breakfast.

“Are you going to hold it against me forever that I forgot to remove the locking charm?” Blaise threw up his hands in frustration.

“Yes,” Draco spat back. “It’s not the first time.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not as if there’s no place to sleep in the common room.” Their voices raised as they argued.

“Those sofas are horridly uncomfortable,” Draco complained.

“I’d do it for you,” Blaise offered, earning him a stern look of warning. “It’s not my fault your _boyfriend_ is too chicken to shack up with you for the night.”

A few of the students snickered, their suspicions about Draco confirmed. Ginny included.

That was the final straw. Draco drew his wand, stepped back and pointed it at Blaise.

“Boys!” Slughorn shouted. “Mr. Malfoy, put away your wand immediately!” The professor put his hands on his hips. “This is no way to behave in my class. Ten points from each of you. Now sit down so we may begin our lesson.”

Draco quickly spoke up, realizing, though he really was angry with Blaise, this was the perfect set up.

“I don’t want him for a partner anymore.”

“Fine by me,” Blaise glowered. “I don’t want you either.”

“Well, I’m not sure you boys have a choice,” Slughorn told them. “Not unless someone else is willing to change pairs.”

Hermione raised her hand. “Excuse me Professor, but if we’re changing partners, I’d like to pair up with Ron.”

Ginny scowled. Even though Hermione had been talking about it all week, Ginny didn’t believe anything would come of it. She and Hermione had been a great pair.

“Oh, I see,” Slughorn replied. “Well, then, that would leave Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter without partners as well.”

Though the circumstances were slightly off, Blaise still had the presence of mind to stick to the plan. “I’ll take Weasley. I mean, Ginny.”

“Is that all right with you, Miss Weasley?” the professor asked.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. Something didn’t seem right. But she certainly didn’t want to work with Draco. At least she had spent some time around Blaise at the first wand party and he didn’t seem so bad. Of course, that would mean Harry would get paired with Malfoy. Strangely, neither of them appeared to be terribly upset.

“That’s fine,” Ginny finally answered. She and Blaise were fairly evenly matched in Potions. She could do worse.

Hermione moved to Ron’s table, while Harry sat down next to Draco. He subtly asked Draco if he was all right.

“Fine, Potter,” he grumbled through gritted teeth. He looked back to glare at Blaise, who did not return the look. Harry hadn’t realized it was a real argument until that moment.

At the end of his lecture, Professor Slughorn hinted at what was to come.

“I want you all to be on time tomorrow and attentive. I have an announcement to make that should interest all of you.”


	16. to boldly go . . .

November 27 1998

Anxious to hear about the new project, most students arrived early to Slughorn’s class. Hermione sat down next to Ginny.

“Oh, did Blaise and Draco kiss and make up?” Ginny giggled.

“What? Oh yeah, I forgot we all switched.” Hermione frowned. “Wait, you think Blaise and Draco are a couple?”

Ginny shrugged. “Well, they’re always together, and Blaise is pretty openly gay.”

“So?”

“And Draco is a bit, I don’t know, graceful, for a man. Don’t you think?”

“Rumors say he’s been with Pansy for years. And a few other girls. Besides, I think Blaise is seeing that Seventh Year in their dormitory,” Hermione pointed out.

“I’m just saying . . . I don’t think a straight guy is going to be that close to a gay guy without a little something going on.”

Hermione frowned. “You don’t think two men can be just friends if one of them is gay?”

Ginny grinned. “Or both of them. _Especially_ if both of them are.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione scoffed. “That’s like saying a boy and a girl can’t be just friends.”

“They can’t,” Ginny announced. “There’s always underlying sexual tension.”

“But what about me and Harry?”

Hermione’s question went unanswered as Blaise walked into the room and narrowed his eyes at her, thinking she reneged on the partner switch. It was just as well, she knew why there was no sexual tension between her and Harry.

“I was just leaving,” Hermione told him. She got up and sat down with Ron, who was talking to Harry. She looked between them as they spoke and wondered about what Ginny said. Could the boys remain best friends now that Harry was coming to terms with his sexual orientation?

Draco walked in and, without looking at Harry, sat down in his usual spot. He was trying very hard to appear casual about having Harry as his partner, but inside, he was as giddy as if he had been stung by a Billywig. Ironically, he and Blaise were still on the outs and Draco thought it was probably for the best that they weren’t partners anymore. But it was Friday and tonight, he wouldn’t care if Blaise and Harper took over the whole dormitory. Draco would be in the Potions lab with Harry. Another reason for him to be fluttery.

“All right, all right. Everyone take a seat please.” Slughorn got the students’ attention. “Time to announce the big project,” he beamed.

“Now, the person you are partnered with today is the person you will remain with throughout the project, so I hope you all are comfortable with the person sitting next to you.”

Ginny and Blaise glanced at one another. They didn’t have much choice. Blaise nodded at Ginny as a sign of approval. She nodded back.

“This is a two week long project that includes a research essay on a new potion of your choice as well as a potion challenge on the last day. You must hand in your essay on time in order to participate in the challenge.”

“What happens if we don’t get to do the challenge?” someone asked.

“You receive a failure for the potion. And if your essay is late, points will be taken off for each day it is overdue. Every essay will be handed in, regardless of how late. More than a week and you will receive no points. Don’t hand it in, and you will fail the class.”

The students talked amongst themselves for a moment while Slughorn let them digest his words. Then he smiled broadly.

“But I don’t expect any of you to hand in late papers. Now, for the essay, each couple will choose a potion from this list.” He held up a parchment. “First, you must describe what the potion is used for and how it works, and the difficulty level. Some of you will be choosing potions which, when brewed incorrectly, are deadly. Include that information in your paper. You will need to list the ingredients and the procedure for brewing. You will also identify each ingredient by class, properties and function. We will meet in the library all next week to do research. Many of you may need to share books, so I suggest finding other groups who need the same information and working that out.”

“The following Monday, you may begin practicing your potions, if you are ready, or you may continue in the library to finish up. Please start your potions no later than Wednesday, the ninth of December. Although, I suggest you begin by Tuesday, the eighth. By December eleventh, all papers will be handed in and there will be a potions challenge. I won’t reveal the potion in question until class that day. And it won’t be a potion any of you have researched. Any questions?”

Ron raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“When you say deadly, do you mean for the person brewing the potion or the person drinking it?”

Several students laughed, and Hermione jabbed him in the ribs for asking a stupid question.

“For the person drinking it, my boy. I’m not going to put anyone in real danger here. Any other questions?”

“Professor, what is the prize for the challenge?” Hermione asked. Other students nodded. they all wanted to know.

“Ah, yes, the prize,” Slughorn smiled. “I thought long and hard about that one. I decided to make it fun. This time the winners will receive certificates to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” he said enthusiastically.

The class in general like that idea. Except Ron, who thought it was nothing special, of course.

“Plus,” the professor continued. “A private three course meal in my quarters with a surprise guest or two,” he said with a glint in his eye.

The room was filled with chatter about who the guest or guests could be. Some guessed Quidditch players, others guessed famous potion makers. Still others hoped it would members of Weird Sisters.

“Now how would Slughorn know them?” Ron asked Seamus.

Seamus scratched his head and shrugged.

“It’s probably some intellectual inventor type person,” Ron grumbled. “Just the sort Hermione would love to meet.” He smiled at her. “We’ll win this luv.”

“Who do you think it will be?” Draco asked Harry.

“Don’t know. Slughorn does know a lot of people. But I don’t know if they’re the sort of people any of us would necessarily want to have supper with,” he laughed. Draco laughed as well.

“Let me have your attention again please,” Slughorn bellowed over the noise of the class. “I will be calling you up in pairs to choose your potion. There are only seven on the list, so some of you will have the same one. Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Longbottom first.”

Pansy waved to Neville as he walked by her. He blushed and gave a quick wave back, then walked away as fast as possible.

“What was that about?” Tracey asked.

“What?”

“You, waving to Longbottom,” Tracey clarified.

Snickering, Pansy replied, “His name shouldn’t be Long_bottom. _ Long something, though.”

“Oh, that’s right, you drew his wand at the first party. What happened?”

“Turns out he’s not gay, like I thought he was. Just painfully shy and inexperienced. Well, he was until I got a hold of him.”

Pansy and Tracey giggled.

“Miss Parkinson and Miss Davis, please.”

The girls went to choose their potion.

By the end of class, each pair had chosen their potion to research. Some couples, such as Hermione and Ron divided up the work and came up with a strategy for working on the essay. Others, such as Tracey and Pansy, sat in the corner gossiping about their classmates.

“Are you having the party tonight?” Tracey questioned.

“Not tonight. We decided to host them only once a month. McGonagall was getting suspicious of students showing up to class with tails and ears. Besides, attendance was waning. Too many couples hooking up and dropping out,” Pansy complained and eyeballed Tracey.

Tracey pouted. “Sorry. Who knew the game would turn out to be a great matchmaker?”

“But, really, Tracey. A Ravenclaw? Was there no one in Slytherin for you?”

“I know you don’t approve, but Anthony is very sweet,” Tracey beamed.

Pansy stuck her finger in her mouth as if to gag.

“Not to mention, sexy as hell.”

Harry and Draco divvied the chores for the essay between them. They would each research five ingredients, and work on the procedures together. To the rest of the class, they appeared to be working hard on the project, but Harry kept telling Draco things he was planning to do to him in that very room later on.

“Stop it, Harry. Someone will hear you.”

“No one is paying attention. I bet I could put my hand on your leg and nobody would even notice.”

Harry stealthily placed his hand under the table, just above Draco’s leg, and grinned.

“You’re going to get caught.”

Loudly enough for others to hear, if they were listening, Harry casually said, “Do you mind doing the final writing again. Your handwriting is so much better than mine.” As he said it, he slowly lowered his hand onto Draco’s thigh.

Draco stiffened, but answered Harry. “You’re right Potter. My handwriting is much better than yours,” he smirked. “But then you’ve got to give me a hand elsewhere.”

Harry’s eyes widened at Draco’s innuendo.

Lowering his voice to almost a whisper, Draco continued. “I think maybe you want to get caught, Potter. What if I just leaned over and nibbled on that ear of yours?” He leaned over just slightly.

Suddenly, Harry wasn’t so certain he wanted to continue the banter. “You wouldn’t dare.” He swiftly removed his hand from Draco’s leg.

“Of course, I’ll do my share,” Harry said, for effect.

When class was dismissed, Draco got up to leave alone, and Harry walked back to Ron and Hermione’s table.

“Harry, this is a huge assignment. I had no idea it was so important when you told me about it. And you’ve stuck Ginny with Zabini,” she admonished.

“And poor Hermione with me,” Ron joked.

“Blaise is pretty smart. He’s good with potions,” Harry told her. “I wouldn’t have agreed to switch if I thought Ginny couldn’t win with him. Honestly. Draco wouldn’t have been his partner if he was no good.”

Ginny joined the group. “Any idea who would be the surprise guest?”

The rest of them shrugged.

“Sorry you got stuck with Malfoy, Harry,” Ginny apologized. “But there was no way I was going to work with him.”

“It’s fine, Gin. Are you going to be all right working with Blaise?”

“Blaise?” Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Since when do you call him Blaise?”

“Oh, uh, well, we should probably all try to get along, so I figure we ought to call each other by first names.”

“I suppose,” she replied. “I’d rather not get called weasel or she-weasel anymore. Are you sure we can’t still call Malfoy ferret, though?” she snickered.

Inside, Harry gritted his teeth, but on the outside, he laughed with the rest of them. Although, Hermione gave him a quick glance of apology. The foursome went back up to Gryffindor to change for supper. Being Friday, and classes were over, they were ready to get out of robes.

hdhdhd

“I thought you said there was no party tonight?” Blaise said to Pansy as they sat eating supper.

“No wand party. Some of us Slytherins are having our own. You’re welcome to join us,” she answered. “We had to cool the wand game for a bit. Some of the students have been careless about where they conduct their trysts. Finnigan and Astoria got caught in the alcove next to the library last party.”

“Oh, shit, what happened?” Blaise laughed.

“They didn’t tell, if that’s what you mean. But they both got detention for a week. Luckily, they were dressed and only got caught snogging,” Pansy told him.

Draco had been sitting listening to the conversation, along with Harper. Harper was an enigma to Draco. He seemed flamboyantly open and gregarious with many students. However, he barely ever spoke at mealtimes. Draco had the feeling he made the boy uncomfortable.

“Blaise, are you finished eating yet?” Draco asked.

As Blaise was about to put a forkful of pork chop into his mouth, he said, “No. Does it look like I’m finished?”

“I need a word with you.”

“So now you’re speaking to me again?” Blaise’s tone was mocking.

“I’m sorry about the fight,” Draco offered. “But it worked.”

“Except that you were seriously angry with me,” Blaise pointed out.

“I don’t like getting locked out of my own room. I give you every Friday night to yourselves. And plenty of other times.”

Blaise knew it was true. “You’re right. Sorry, mate.” He shrugged. “I don’t mean to lock you out. We just forget to take the charm off before we fall asleep.” Blaise continued eating through the conversation.

“And then you had to go and announce that I have a boyfriend to the entire class.” Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

“So what, most know you’re bi anyway.”

“But I don’t want people to try and guess who it is.” Draco lowered his voice. “Or worse, suspect that it’s Harry, now that we’re working together.”

“You know,” Blaise said, shoving a spoonful of pudding into his mouth. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing for Potter to come out. We could use a bit of an image boost.” Blaise looked at Harper, who was licking gravy from his fingers. “Everyone thinks all gays are like him.”

Draco turned to look at Harper. He never took much notice of him and he wasn’t sure what Blaise was getting at.

“What?”

“What?” Harper repeated Draco’s sentiments.

“You wear purple sequins sometimes.”

“So?” Harper smiled.

“And you hold your pinkies in the air when you eat.”

Harper silently put his hands under the table.

“And are you wearing make-up?” Draco questioned, now that he was closely looking at Harper’s face. 

Harper sat up, indignant. “It’s not make-up. It’s guyliner. And lots of boys wear it. Some aren’t even gay.”

“I rest my case,” Blaise said. “If Potter came out, it would definitely help our image.”

“He’s not ready,” Draco explained. “And don’t any of you dare say anything.” He pointed a finger at Pansy, Blaise and Harper.

“Fine,” Blaise sighed. “What is it you want to talk about?”

“Not here. Are you finished eating now?” Draco impatiently asked. “Pansy, keep Harper occupied for a bit, will you? Maybe he can give you tips on how to put on eyeliner,” he chuckled.

One more spoonful of pudding and Blaise was done. The pair left the Great Hall for Slytherin to talk in private.

When they got to their dormitory, Draco began taking out clothes for his usual rendezvous with Harry.

“You want me to help you pick out clothes for tonight?” Blaise frowned.

“No. Well, actually, since you’re here, you can help. But that’s not what I wanted to ask you.”

“The grey silk shirt and black jeans,” Blaise said.

“Really? Not the blue?”

“Nah, it makes you look even paler.”

“Thanks,” Draco muttered sarcastically and turned his back to Blaise in order to change his shirt. He removed his dress trousers and pants, exposing his bum to Blaise.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Blaise said under his breath. “So, what is it already?”

After pulling up his fresh pants and black jeans that Blaise had chosen, Draco sat nervously on his bed.

“I was wondering. . . if you knew any spells. For cleansing.” It took Draco a while to finally spit out.

Blaise frowned. “Scourgify works for most things. But you must know that already.”

“No, I mean . . . personal cleansing,” Draco didn’t blush often, but he could feel his ears getting warm and he knew they must be bright pink.

Blaise grinned widely. “Oh, personal cleansing. Yeah, I’ve got one or two good ones. Really thorough, if you know what I mean. Harry Potter’s arse will be fresh as a daisy, and taste like sweet cream,” he sniggered.

At that, Draco’s whole face reddened. “Blaise!”

“What?” Blaise laughed. “If you can’t even _talk_ about rimming your boyfriend, how are you going to do it? Are you certain you’re bent at all?”

“Yes. Quite,” Draco huffed. “Just show me the fucking spell.”

Blaise told Draco the incantation and they way to flourish his wand. Blaise also suggested he try it out on himself before performing it on Harry. Draco whispered the charm and waved his wand at himself.

“Fuck,” Draco’s eyes widened. 

“Did it work?”

“Is it supposed to be so . . . tingly?”

Smiling, Blaise said. “Nice, huh? It sounds like it worked. Now you’re all ready for him.”

Draco nodded for appearances sake, but he doubted he would get Harry to even consider rimming. He wasn’t certain Harry would even want Draco to do it to him. He was growing weary of the baby steps they had been taking.

“Thanks, Blaise.”

“Is that it?” Blaise asked. “I want to shower before Harper comes up.”

“Um,” Draco hesitated. “There is one more thing. As long as I’m humiliating myself to you, I may as well get this over with.”

“What are friends for?” Blaise grinned. He enjoyed seeing Draco squirm. It didn’t happen very often. “Shoot.”

“I wanted to know where you get your, um,” Draco rolled his eyes. This may be more humiliation than he could handle. “Your, uh . . . lube,” he said quickly. “Do you conjure it or buy it?”

Blaise didn’t laugh as Draco expected. Instead he cocked his head and knit his brows together. “I’ve done both.” Blaise scratched his head. “Why ask me? What do you usually do?”

Draco silently glanced anywhere in the room to avoid eye contact, his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

“Blimey, Dra. Don’t tell me you haven’t fucked anyone before.”

“Of course I have.” Draco stood up straighter. “Several girls in our House and Pansy quite often, thank you.”

“But no blokes?”

Draco slouched, just slightly. “No.”

“Ever been–?”

“No. Never.”

“Oh. So why haven’t you?”

Draco shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone that I like enough, I suppose.”

“But you like Potter enough?”

Draco looked Blaise in the eye for his answer.

“And you’re certain he’s on the up and up? He’s not fucking with you, is he?”

Draco shook his head. “No. In fact, I think he’s starting to fall for me.” He ran a finger across his own lip.

“Watch it there, Dra,” Blaise warned. “It looks like he’s not the only one in danger of falling.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco said softly. “I’m never going to fall in love.”

“Never say never, mate.”

“It’ll be fun while it lasts and then it will fade away like every other relationship in this place.”

“That’s pretty cynical, even for you,” Blaise frowned.

“You think you and Harper are going to last?” Draco said with a biting tone.

Blaise shook his head. “No. But we’re too different. We’re simply enjoying one another’s company. You and Potter, now you’re two peas in a pod.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about? We’re complete opposites.”

“Really, you’ve never noticed the similarities?” Blaise cocked his head again. “You both grew up in controlling households, both leaders of your little trios, both had your destinies planned for you in the war. You’ve both borne the burden of other people’s lofty expectations. He’s the golden boy, with just a touch of evil in him. You’re the bad boy, with enough good to redeem yourself in the end. I’d say, no one is ever going to understand you better than him. And vice versa.”

Draco stood listening to Blaise go on. He’d never considered any of the things Blaise said. Draco saw their differences--the rich boy with the prominent, pure blood family, versus the seemingly poor orphan who didn’t even learn about magic until he was called to Hogwarts. Opposites in many ways. He’d always thought of them as enemies, opponents, rivals. Famous, and infamous. Truthfully, Draco never realized Blaise had that much insight into his own life. He supposed that was why his friend had stuck by him after the war, when so many others looked down upon him.

Blaise continued. “Look, I’m not one to judge. And I’m certainly no Potter groupie. But I haven’t seen you this content in . . . _ever_, really.”

Draco said nothing, prompting Blaise to make another observation.

“It may be none of my business, but you’re talking like you’re planning to fuck him.” Blaise paused, thinking carefully before he spoke what was on his mind. “Potter doesn’t seem like the bottom type. Actually, neither of you do. Another way the pair of you are alike.”

“Yes, that has occurred to me as well.”

The room fell silent, the conversation getting a little too intimate. Blaise cleared his throat.

“Anyway, I bought mine in Knockturn Alley,” he said, referring back to Draco’s original forgotten question. “There’s a shop there that sells all sorts of fun stuff. I conjured it one time, but it disappeared at a very inopportune moment.” Blaise shuddered at the memory.

“Thanks,” Draco said uncomfortably. “Listen, don’t say anything to Pansy. The last thing I need is for her to tease me about–”

“‘nough said, mate. It’s between us,” Blaise promised. “Now get the fuck out before Harper gets here,” he grinned, teasing.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” Draco said as he walked out of the dormitory and made his way to the Potions classroom.

hdhdhd

By the time Draco reached the Potions room, he was ten minutes late. His conversation with Blaise had taken more time than he planned. And gave him much more to think about than he expected. As a consequence, Draco was frowning slightly when he walked into the room. On top of Blaise’s words weighing on his mind, he couldn’t get through the locking charm right away.

Immediately, the frown disappeared and was replaced by wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Harry was lying, not on the usual small pad he conjured, but a bed covered in green satin sheets. There were candles everywhere, and a basket with a bottle of something on the floor. Harry was already nude.

“Hurry up and lock the door,” Harry urged. Harry made it a point to make sure the door was properly locked after Hermione walked in on him the previous week.

Still gaping, Draco turned and quickly placed the usual charms on the room. He stood only for a moment before striding over to Harry’s side. His eyes swept over the scene before him.

“What’s the occasion?” Draco barely found his voice.

“Do I need one?” Harry leered. “I told you what I wanted to do to you in class today.” He reached out and began to unbutton Draco’s grey silk shirt. “You’re over dressed,” the Chosen One told him.

Draco subtly brushed Harry’s hand away and began to run his own hands over Harry’s shoulders. He leaned down to kiss him, kicking his shoes off as he did. The Slytherin gently sat down to better reach the Gryffindor’s mouth. He felt the button on his trousers loosen and a hand massage his lap. He allowed Harry to unzip and remove the trousers, pants and socks, but when Harry once again reached for the buttons on his shirt, Draco brushed away his hand.

Sitting back on his heels, Harry questioned, “What’s the matter? Why won’t you let me take off your shirt?” His expression was puzzled. “Come to think of it, you always leave it on.”

Looking away, Draco tried to think of an excuse.

“What don’t you want me to see?” Harry asked gently.

Avoiding eye contact still, Draco replied. “I’m ugly.”

Harry smirked at that. “What are you talking about? You’re a freaking Adonis.”

“Not underneath this shirt.”

“Please,” Harry prodded. “I want to see all of you. I want to feel your skin on mine.”

Draco bit his lip and closed his eyes. Slowly, he unbuttoned the shirt himself. He winced at the thought of Harry looking at him. Opening one eye, then the other, Draco saw Harry frowning. His reaction was worse than Draco thought.

“Draco? What am I supposed to be seeing?” Harry squinted.

Looking down and pointing at several places on his torso, he grimaced, “These ugly scars.”

Harry leaned forward more. “Oh.” He looked into Draco’s face. “I can barely see them. Is this what you’re so upset about?” he snickered a bit.

“Don’t make fun.” Draco pouted.

“I’m not. I’m sorry, but they’re hardly noticeable. I would have missed this one completely, except I felt it when I put my hand in your shirt that first night we kissed.”

Subconsciously, Draco’s hand moved to cover his faint scars.

“My God, if you think they’re bad, what must you think of mine?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling self–conscious himself.

“What scars? You’re perfect. Except the one on your forehead, I’ve never noticed any scars.”

Harry pointed to the oval patch above his heart. “I got that from one of the horcruxes. Hermione tried her best to get it off without damaging the skin but . . .” He shrugged. “And Nagini bit me here. Although it’s really faint.” The Gryffindor held out his hand. “I got this from Umbridge’s _special_ quill. And I’ve got a few bad ones on my legs.”

Draco frowned. “Oh.” He felt somewhat of a berk for seeming so vain.

“And even if you did have ugly scars, it wouldn’t matter to me. I’m hardly one to judge someone else’s looks,” Harry smirked. 

“Don’t say that.”

Returning to the original subject, Harry asked, “How did you get them anyway?”

Opening his mouth to speak, Draco thought better of it, and closed it again.

“They look like slash marks.” Harry ran his fingers over a few of them. “But I can’t imagine you would have just stood there while someone stabbed you over and over. Did you get them all at once?” Harry suddenly gasped. “I did this to you, didn’t I? Shit. No wonder you didn’t want me to see.”

Seeing the wheels in Harry’s mind turning, Draco finally spoke up. “Harry, I know what you’re thinking. I’m not angry anymore. I’m not trying to get you back. Those were only dreams that you had.”

“But I did this to you. I was so careless. You must have hated me.”

“I did,” the blond confessed. “For a little while. But I drove you to it. And what I hated was what Vol-- you-know-who, was making me do. I hated myself more than you.”

Hugging Draco close, Harry said softly, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s done. I’m over it,” Draco told him. “I didn’t want you thinking that I really was plotting revenge. Especially after you told me about those dreams. Have you had any more?”

“Actually, I must have dozed off waiting for you tonight, because I did have a similar dream.”

The Slytherin appeared disappointed.

“It was different than the others. A little anyway. It still started with you telling Blaise I was falling for you. And then he told you it sounded like I wasn’t the only one in danger of falling.”

“Were those the exact words Blaise used in the dream?”

“Close to it,” Harry shrugged. “Why?”

“What else happened?”

“Then you said, _don’t be ridiculous_.”

Gradually, Draco’s mouth had begun to drop open.

“But this time, instead of telling him you were planning to humiliate me, you told him–”

“I was never going to fall in love,” Draco finished for him.

“Yeah. Wait, how did you know that?”

“Because that conversation actually happened. About an hour ago.” Draco blinked as if physically hit by his next thought. “Harry, are you using Legilimency on me?”

“What? No. I’m not skilled in that. And even if I were, I wouldn’t use it on you.”

“But how could you know what Blaise and I said to one another?”

“I have had prophetic dreams before. But not since the war. Once I got rid of the horcrux in me, I lost the skills I got from Voldemort. I figured prophecy was one of those things.”

“Maybe that wasn’t from him. Maybe that was you all along,” Draco suggested.

“Maybe. I’ve lost the ability to speak Parseltongue, though.”

“Have any others come true?”

“No. But I do keep having some dreams over again.” Something occurred to Harry, and he abruptly changed the subject. “What do you mean, you’re never going to fall in love?”

Harry’s question surprised Draco. “Uh, I meant . . .” He knew he had to be careful with his words. He didn’t know exactly how much of his conversation with Blaise Harry saw. 

“I’m not Pansy,” Harry said, inferring that Draco was so hurt by his former girlfriend that he wasn’t going to let that happen to him again.

“Sorry?”

“She told me what happened between you two. I promise I won’t hurt you like that.”

“You can’t promise that. You have no idea what the future holds,” Draco told him.

Harry knew Draco was correct. “Then I promise to try my best not to hurt you,” he smiled.

Feeling somewhat better, Draco was finally able to look Harry in the eye. Harry gave him a gentle kiss.

“Feel better about things?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded. “But what about your dreams?”

“Let’s worry about that later,” Harry suggested. “Our energy would be better spent doing other things,” he grinned.

“I agree,” Draco gazed into green eyes that seemed to be brighter than they were a moment ago. “And I know just how I want to spend that energy,” he leered. “But I need your permission.”

Harry gave him a questioning look, then an apprehensive one as he thought he knew what Draco was getting at.

“No, not _that_. Not yet. I don’t think you’re ready for that,” the Slytherin reassured.

“Oh, okay,” Harry blushed. “You must think I’m some sort of a prudish coward,” he laughed nervously.

“What I think is that you’ve gone through a lot of changes in the past month and I’m lucky to be here with you at all.” Draco chuckled softly. “I’ll admit I’d like things to move a bit faster, but it’s all right. I confess that I haven’t shagged a man either, so when you’re ready, it’ll be a first for both of us.”

“Really? I assumed you were somewhat experienced in all this.”

Shaking his head, the blond acknowledged, “Like you, most of my experience has been with girls. But what I want to do to you, I haven’t done with a girl.”

Harry bit his lip. But the sincere expression on Draco’s face was enough to convince Harry to trust him. Without further explanation from Draco, Harry agreed. “All right.”

Pulse racing, Draco carefully pushed Harry onto his back.

“I’m going to do a spell first. It’s to, um, get you ready for me. I already tried it on myself, so I know it’s safe.” Draco grabbed his wand and was about to say the incantation. “It . . . tickles, a bit.”

A whisper and a flourish and Harry’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell.” He grinned.

Hovering over Harry, Draco peppered him with kisses, making sure to get the small oval scar, down his body until he reached Harry’s cock. He kissed it gently and took it in his hand. It didn’t take long for Draco to coax it to its full potential.

“I love how that thing points straight up. It’s like a fucking steel rod.” He pounced on it taking the whole length into his mouth, nearly gagging. Lavishing attention on Harry’s dick briefly, Draco continued on his way to the intended target. He stopped to lick his bollocks for a moment, then held Harry’s thighs and spread them wide.

“Hold your legs up.”

Harry lifted his head, questioning Draco with a look. “I thought you said you weren’t going to do _that_.”

The Slytherin gave his best lecherous look. “Trust me.”

Obliging, the brunet gripped the back of his own legs and held them open. He couldn’t help the sound that escaped his lips as he felt something wet and firm, yet not stiff, poking at his entrance. When Draco wiggled his tongue, Harry gasped.

Stopping only long enough to check on Harry, Draco questioned, “Do you like it?”

Harry lifted his head in order to look at the blond head between his legs. “It feels like something I shouldn’t like. But I do,” Harry blushed.

Without another word, Draco continued his task, pushing his tongue further in.

Before long, the Gryffindor hero was coming undone to the point of begging. “Touch me, Draco. Please. Or I’m gonna have to do it myself.” He was breathless and aching.

Draco shifted his weight slightly and began to stroke Harry with his free hand. The constant moans coming from his partner were too much to bear, and Draco slid from his knees to his belly, trapping his own erection between his body and the satin sheets. He ground himself against the bed with the same rhythm he used on Harry’s cock.

Giving no other warning, Harry let out a cry just before a small puddle of cum appeared on his belly. A puddle that was added to several times.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” He declared, panting. Harry lifted his head to find Draco with his head lolled to the side, groaning.

“Draco stop,” Harry ordered. “_I _want to make you cum.”

With great difficulty, Draco stilled. “I’m sorry, it’s not going to take much.” He looked at Harry through hooded eyes, on the brink when Harry interrupted. But he was glad. He’d rather have Harry’s hands and mouth on him.

Tentatively, Harry mimicked Draco’s earlier actions. All up until he reached Draco’s arse.

Sensing the hesitation, Draco offered, “You don’t have to. It’s all right.”

“I want to,” the reticent brunet whispered. After another brief hesitation, Harry closed his eyes and stretched out his tongue. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant and the reward of Draco’s growl was enough to encourage him to keep going.

Harry didn’t wait for Draco to ask to be wanked, thanks to the benefit of his experience. He also had the benefit of a relatively clear head, that Draco had not.

Announcing his imminent orgasm, Draco reached out and gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly. His body stiffened and toes curled, prompting Harry to raise his head in order watch the semen shoot from Draco’s cock. Ever since the first time he witnessed it, Harry had the urge to watch. It turned him on almost as much as being touched.

Thick, opaque, streams shot from Draco, leaving streaks of jizz along the length of his torso and pooling a bit in the hollow of his neck.

Harry marveled at the differences between the way they came. And he had a desire to see how other men came, that he never had before. Quickly putting that thought out of his mind, Harry directed his attention back to Draco.

“Was that good?” Harry asked, seeking approval.

“It was unbelievably good.”

Harry climbed up and lay next to Draco on the silky sheets. He wrapped his arms around him and tenderly kissed the back of his neck.

“I wish we could stay here all night.”

“We’d end up on the floor when the bed disappeared,” Draco snickered. “Besides, I think Slughorn comes in early on Saturdays to make potions for Madame Pomfrey. Could you imagine his face when he walked in on us?”

At first they laughed, but the thought of the old Potions professor seeing them nude made them grimace.

“It’ll be nice when we can finally just spend the night together like Blaise and Harper,” Draco commented. “Not that I’m trying to pressure you. But have you given any more thought as to how you’re going to come out? Or when?”

Harry sighed. “I know it’s frustrating for you. It is for me as well. But I’m still not sure I’m ready.”

“It’s all right, luv. Eventually.”

At that moment Harry was glad Draco couldn’t see his face. Hearing Draco call him luv took him by surprise. Not to mention the odd feeling he got in his chest. He squeezed Draco tightly, knowing the evening was coming to a close. 


	17. what begins in the library...

December 4 1998

Ten o’clock. Slytherin House. Pansy and Theo stood in front of the wand cauldron looking at one another.

“Should we give it a few more minutes?” Theo questioned.

Shrugging, Pansy replied, “I guess. There must be _someone_ else coming.”

“Where do you think they all are?”

“They’ve all hooked up, thanks to the bloody game,” Pansy groused. 

“They can’t _all_ have hooked up,” Theo pointed out.

“Well, let’s see. Blaise and Harper, Tracey and Goldstein, Looney-girl and Longbottom, Corner and one of the Patil sisters, Weasley and Granger. Actually, they were already together. But the game didn’t put pair them up. And Dean Thomas and the Weasley girl.” She almost mentioned Harry and Draco, and had to stop herself. “I think even Finnigan and Astoria are an item now. Maybe Daphne and Macmillan are together. They got paired last time”

“Pfft,” Theo snorted.

Pansy frowned. “Do you think it’s coincidence?”

“What?” Theo asked, shoving crisps into his mouth.

“That everyone the game put together is now dating. Or at least shagging.”

“Well, not everyone,” Theo said, crumbs flying out of his mouth. He covered it, but not quickly enough. “Sorry. I mean, Finch-Fletchley didn’t get anywhere with anybody. Weren’t you with him last time?” Pansy nodded. “And Potter and Malfoy. No fucking way,” he laughed.

Smiling, Pansy agreed, for appearances sake. “Yeah, you’re right. But where_ is_ everyone?” 

They waited another ten minutes before deciding they were what remained of the Slytherin House wand parties.

“Well, I suppose we can skip the party part,” Pansy said. “What number do you have?”

“Seven. You?”

“Five.” Pansy reached into the cauldron and plucked out Theo’s wand. “Accio wand.”

Theo grinned. “At least there won’t be any surprises tonight.”

Pansy frowned. Shagging Theo wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She’d already done that a couple of times any way, most recently at the second wand party. But she couldn’t help staring disgustedly at the crumbs around his mouth. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Where shall we go?” Theo asked, pulling Pansy closer.

“I thought we’d stay here.”

“Here? Where anyone can just walk in on us? Kinky.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, walk in on us talking,” she chuckled. “Although that would be shocking, to find you actually talking to a girl.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You mean,_ just _talk?”

“Yes, you know, we’ve been here in the same House for seven and a half years. And I don’t know much about you.”

“All you need to know is that I’ve got a huge plonker and tonight it’s got your name on it,” he grinned. “Come on, Parkinson. What are you holding out for? It’s only you and me.”

She thought about how so many other players were paired up that night. Willingly. The game hadn’t chosen well for her, though. Neville and Michael had been nice boys, but both had their hearts set on someone else. Justin Finch-Fletchley was all right, she supposed, but she truly couldn’t find herself interested in a Hufflepuff. Besides, he had asked too many questions about Millicent. And getting paired with Romilda Vane did absolutely nothing for her. Not once did she get paired with Draco. If anyone at Hogwarts was going to be her mate, it would have been Draco. And now Pansy found herself for the second time with Theo. His reputation was worse than hers.

Pansy sighed heavily. “Nothing. Your place or mine?”

“Zabini and his boy toy are in mine.”

“Tracey’s got Goldstein in ours.”

Nott glanced around the room. “You know, since we placed our wands in the cauldron, it’s an official wand party. We’re basically magically sealed in until midnight.”

“More importantly, everyone else is magically sealed out,” Pansy grinned.

hdhdhd

December 5 1998

Justin Finch-Fletchly stood at the entrance to Slytherin gathering up the nerve to knock. He thought long hard about whether or not to bother trying to smooth things over with Millicent. For the past month, he’d watched her sneering at him, then avoiding him, then finally going about her business--ignoring him.

He figured maybe enough time had passed that she wasn’t as angry anymore. Heaving in a large breath, he banged on the wall next to a tapestry.

“Hello?” He shouted.

No one answered, so he knocked again.

“Hello!” he shouted louder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tracey Davis asked as she and Daphne Greengrass approached.

Startled, Justin stuttered, “Oh, I was, um hoping to speak to Millicent maybe.”

Daphne snickered, glancing behind him to see what he was holding. He held it further behind his back.

“Do you think you could just tell her I’m here?”

“Sure thing, lover boy,” Tracey winked. “Go down the hall a minute. I don’t want you to hear the password.”

Reluctantly, he walked part way down the hallway as the girls disappeared into the passage.

A couple of minutes later, Tracey re-emerged.

“Sorry Fletchley. She doesn’t want to come out.” She felt a bit of pity for him as he nodded, looking disappointed.

“All right. I didn’t really think she would, but . . .” Justin shrugged. Tracey turned to walk away. “Wait. Could you tell her, Merlin is here to see her?”

“What?”

“Could you?”

Tracey laughed, “All right.” Once again, she passed through the passageway.

Justin put the mask he was hiding, on his face and waited, for what seemed like forever. He was about to give up when Millicent stepped through the opening. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she didn’t expect him to be wearing his mask from the dance.

“What is it you want, _Finch-Fletchley_?” She said his name with a bit of contempt.

He bowed and lowered his head respectively, “Madame de Mortmorency.”

“What?”

Justin hesitated. “I . . . realized that I never apologized to you.”

“Why are you wearing a mask?”

“I thought maybe you’d rather talk to the boy from the dance than me,” he answered.

Millicent couldn’t help laughing at the truth of his statement. “All right. Go ahead then.”

He held out a small bouquet of simple flowers for her, which she accepted. “I’m sorry for my behavior at the wand party. That first one. And the second one as well, I guess. I should have just cleaned your room for you. It was the least I could have done.”

Mouth hanging open, Millicent stared at him.

“Is this a Hufflepuff thing?”

“What do you mean?” he frowned. “Apologizing?”

“Well, yeah. Theo would have offered to let me watch again. And Draco probably would have told me to get over it. The gits. They think I’m fat anyway.”

“You’re not fat.”

“It’s all right. I know I’m fat. I hear what people say.”

“You’re not fat. You’re curvy.” As soon as he saw the look on her face, he knew he said the wrong thing. But he said it with the best intentions.

She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Is that it then?” she asked coldly.

“No.”

“And take that stupid mask off.”

Justin pulled the mask off and stood awkwardly, questioning the sanity of going to Slytherin that afternoon.

“Well?” She tapped her free fingers on her elbow.

“Um, I also wanted to tell you I had a good time at the dance. Until you slapped me,” he laughed nervously.

Millicent watched him fidget, deciding how much she wanted to make him squirm. She was miffed about the whole wanking in front of her incident. But he’d apologized, which was more than she expected. And she hated to admit it, but she did have a good time at the dance. She just wasn’t sure she could swallow her pride. Or harder still, take the ridicule of dating a Hufflepuff from her Housemates. Dating? She mentally shook her head. He hadn’t even asked her out. Maybe he was simply trying to be nice. There weren’t too many boys queuing up to date Millicent.

He was looking at her expectantly.

“Sorry?”

He licked his dry lips. “I asked if you did. If you had a good time, until you found out it was me.”

Take a chance and admit she did, or shoot down the only prospect she’d had in a while? It was a tough call.

“Yes,” she finally answered. “I suppose I did.” By this time, she was examining her fingernails with great intent.

He tried to suppress a smile. “Do you think we could start over? Pretend the wand parties never happened?”

“Start over how?”

“Uh, he-he, I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He blushed. “Hogsmeade? Are you doing anything this afternoon?”

“You’d want to go with me? Even after I was mean to you?”

“I know you Slytherins have a reputation for being snobbish and mean. But I think it’s a front. You weren’t like that at all at the dance. You were nice and charming and funny. I think that was the real you. And I liked it.”

She smiled. He was partly right. Though she knew she wasn’t as winsome as he was making her out to be. “And is it the same with you? You don’t normally go around wanking in public?” He blushed again. “I’m teasing. Actually, you’re not that different than you were at the dance. Maybe not as confident.”

“I wish I could wear a mask all the time,” he confessed.

“I wish I could wear a corset all the time,” she chimed in.

“I like curves,” he said quietly.

The first time he mentioned it, it was insulting. Somehow, the second time he said it, she found it less so.

“Okay,” Millicent said, looking down at the flowers. The first flowers she ever got from a boy. “I’ll go with you to Hogsmeade.”

“You will? Brilliant. I just need time to change,” he grinned. “I’ll be right back.”

“Give me half an hour,” she said.

“Great.”

“And meet me in the Entrance Hall,” she suggested. She wasn’t quite ready for her Housemates to start in on her before there was anything to tease her about.

hdhdhd

December 7 1998

Draco could feel the stare from across the table in the library. He tried his best to ignore it. Continuing to write, Draco glanced back and forth between the parchment he was working on and the notes Harry had taken earlier.

“Potter, stop staring at me,” the Slytherin said without looking up.

A smile slowly grew on Harry’s face. He was supposed to be copying down the procedure for their potion. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy across the table from him. The way the fringe fell over his eyes, the straight line of his nose, the curve of his lips. Harry felt the stirrings of desire the longer he stared.

Redirecting his attention, Harry continued writing the steps to the potion. He didn’t get very far before his gaze traveled back to the blond.

“You’re staring again,” Draco said, without looking up, the concentration visible on his face.

Harry literally shook his head, in an attempt to focus. He was able to copy down much of it before his thoughts wandered again.

With a small smile on his lips, Harry silently pulled his foot out of his shoe. He took a quick peek around. There were a few students in the library, but most of them were deeply focused on their own potion essays. Harry’s foot slid leisurely across the floor, searching for its target. It gently bumped against Draco’s shoe.

Draco looked up at Harry, who maintained the illusion of copying his work. Deciding it was nothing, Draco set back to his task. He wanted to finish their essay that night, so they could begin making their potion on Tuesday.

Harry could barely hold back his grin as his foot found the hem of Draco’s trousers and began to slide upward. He kept his eye on the blond, studying his face for any sign that Harry was breaking his concentration.

The very corner of Draco’s mouth raised, ever so slightly. He quietly addressed Harry again, without looking up.

“You know, Potter, the faster we get finished here, the faster we’ll have free time.” The smile on Draco’s face grew. “And I’m just about done. I guess I’ll have to start without you.”

Looking down at his parchment, Harry figured it would take him another fifteen minutes or so to copy the rest of the potion procedure. He heard papers shuffling and watched Draco as he began to pack up.

“You’re finished already?”

Smirking, the Slytherin answered. “I wasn’t fooling around when I was supposed to be working.”

“But . . . are you really leaving?”

Draco packed his things, winked and whispered, “You know where I’ll be.”

He left Harry with his mouth hanging open, in the middle of the library. A few moments of blinking blankly, then Harry found himself quickly scribbling the rest of the potion formula. He smirked when he glanced at the clock. Less than eight minutes. He wondered how far Draco had gotten without him. The thought sent a shiver through his spine, imagining his partner stripping and stroking himself in preparation.

Trying to ignore his growing problem, Harry swiftly gathered up his papers and rushed out of the library.

He stood in front of the Potions room, catching his breath after running the whole way. Harry composed himself as best he could, then disengaged the charms on the door. Before stepping all the way in, Harry was seized by his tie and pulled against a firm body. 

“Took you long enough, Potter,” Draco breathed. His hands immediately found the button on Harry’s trousers and undid it, sliding the zipper down at the same time. Harry groaned when those hands wrapped around his cock inside his pants.

At the same time Harry’s hands were busy on their own, running up under Draco’s shirt. Frustrated by the lack of room, Harry’s fingers went instead to the buttons, freeing Draco from his shirt. The pair continued to undress one another until both were completely nude, their clothing, a pile on the floor by the door.

Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulders and walked him backwards toward a small, fluffy mattress he had conjured. They fell together, kissing and running their hands over smooth, taut bodies.

Breaking the kiss, Draco leaned back. “You did finish, didn’t you?”

Harry laughed. “Do you think I dare come here if I didn’t? But it may not be the neatest.”

“Good enough, I’m sure,” Draco said hurriedly and placed his lips over Harry’s. He moaned into the brunet’s mouth as they brought their bodies closer together, trapping erections between them. Bumping and grinding, the boys took their time building toward release.

Finally taking the lead, Harry kissed his way down Draco’s body, eventually closing his lips around Draco’s cock. While his right hand fondled the nearest nipple, his left found its way below the blond’s bollocks. Harry fingered the opening, making the Slytherin gasp.

Harry whispered a spell, then Accioed a hidden bottle of lube, readying Draco for a finger. Then two. Pumping in and out. In and out. Slowly, in and out.

“Oh, mmm, yeah.”

Harry could only hum in response, as his mouth was occupied. It served to help bring Draco closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Harry. I’m--”

Draco didn’t get a chance to finish that thought as his climax washed over him. His body stiffened and he clutched Harry’s hair tightly.

“Ow,” the brunet chuckled.

“Fuck. Sorry,” Draco grinned. He didn’t look very sorry. “Your fault. But I’ll give you a chance to get back at me.”

Harry licked his lips. “All right,” he murmured.

“What would you like?” Draco asked.

“Surprise me.”

Grinning, the Slytherin pushed Harry onto his back and returned the favor. In the back of Harry’s mind, he couldn’t help wondering how it would feel if Draco’s cock were inside him, rather than his fingers. He thought he should like to find out. Perhaps not that night, but soon.

As they lay together afterward, Harry played with Draco’s hair while he gazed at the blond’s face.

“You’re staring again.”

Harry smiled. “I wonder if I always thought you were handsome.”

Draco turned his head. “What?” he laughed. “You called me ferret face. I don’t think you’d call someone you found attractive ferret face.”

Sighing, Harry replied, “I know. That was just because we were being mean. But you really are handsome. I could stare at you for hours. I have, actually. Oh, that sounded creepy.”

“It’s not as if I haven’t spent time ogling you.”

Harry laughed heartily. Draco hadn’t cracked a smile.

“What.” Harry frowned.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

Draco leaned up on an elbow. “You really don’t know how good-looking you are.”

“Stop.” The Gryffindor elbowed his partner and grinned sheepishly. “I’m scar-head, remember? Four eyes.”

Draco scowled.

“It’s okay. I guess you’re not as shallow as me, going after the best-looking boy at Hogwarts.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have good taste in men? Because I assure you, I have the best taste in everything.” Draco sat up and looked down at Harry. “You are the most striking man--_person_, I have ever seen. And you don’t even realize it. It only makes you more appealing.”

Harry looked away, uncomfortable with the compliment. Draco pulled Harry’s chin, forcing him to look up.

“It’s just one of the many things I like about you.”

Smiling tentatively, Harry said, “Still, perhaps it’s time to get rid of these.” He picked up his glasses from where they had been tossed earlier.

“No, I like the glasses.”

A puzzled look crossed Harry’s face. Nobody _likes_ glasses.

“Everyone else has to look at your eyes through those. I’m the only one who gets to really see them as they are now,” Draco explained. “I think you’re very handsome.” Draco whispered and leaned down to kiss Harry, “Beautiful, even. Believe that.”

Harry swallowed. “All right,” he said quietly.

“Oh, fuck, what time is it?” Draco suddenly got up. He rooted through his trouser pockets for his watch. “I was supposed to help Blaise with something for his essay. He’s going to fucking kill me.”

Getting up and dressing as well, Harry tried to calm him down. “If I know Ginny, she’s working on whatever issue they might have. She wants to win as badly as any of us.”

“You’re probably right, but I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”

“Go, I’ll clean up here,” Harry offered.

Draco paused at the door and turned to look back at Harry. “Believe it, Harry,” he smiled, and swiftly ran to his House.

hdhdhd

Ginny was walking out of Slytherin as Draco was attempting to get in.

“Oh, hi,” she said, startled.

“Were you just working with Blaise?”

“Yes, why?”

“Is he pissed off at me?” Draco asked.

“Should he be?”

“Well, I was supposed to help with your essay. He said he couldn’t find enough information about sopophorous.”

Ginny laughed. “I’m best friends with the walking library. Did you really think we wouldn’t be able to get that information without _your_ help?”

“Oh. Then, brilliant. Good for you,” he said sarcastically.

“Yes, it is,” Ginny smirked. “And we’re going to kick your arse Friday on the potion contest. You should have stuck with Blaise. Harry’s not very good at potions.”

Ready to defend Harry, Draco could feel the anger rising. He had to remind himself not to say anything foolish. “Potter is adequate at potion making.” He grinned, “And my brilliance more than makes up for it. But good luck anyway.”

She walked past him. “We won’t need it.”

Draco continued on into his common room, wondering what on Earth Harry ever saw in her. He found his dormitory door locked already and sighed. Blaise and Harper didn’t waste any time. Resigned to sleeping on a couch, Draco got ready for bed and settled on the one nearest the fire. As he watched the flames dance, he thought back on the evening. Harry referred to him as the best-looking boy at Hogwarts. He wondered if he really meant that. Not that Draco was falsely modest. He knew he was quite attractive. He also knew that he had little to do with that. His looks came from his exceptionally handsome father. But Harry seemed truly surprised and embarrassed that Draco would say the same of him.

Draco sighed and silently berated himself for his moony-eyed behavior. Malfoys were the sort to be sought after, not the one to follow others like a puppy dog. He couldn’t help himself around Harry. Draco had never felt the need to reassure a lover before. But he didn’t want to let this one get away.

He fell asleep with visions of emerald eyes in his head. And he didn’t even care that he was once again relegated to the uncomfortable sofa.

hdhdhd

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

_ “No! Ron!” Hermione’s voice screamed from somewhere._

_ Draco stood, wand extended toward the place Ron was standing. Except that Ron was no longer standing._

Harry awoke with a start, sweating and breathing heavily. His heart raced as he glanced over to Ron’s bed, where the ginger peacefully lay. Harry sat very still until he was certain he could hear his friend breathing rhythmically and he was satisfied that Ron was indeed merely sleeping.

He’d had the dream one other time. But as he recalled, Draco shouted ‘Stupify’ not the killing curse. It was the only dream in which the circumstances grew more grim. The others began seemingly disturbing, then became more and more benign as they progressed. And it was such a small fragment of a dream, Harry was barely able to remember much about it. The setting was familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it.

There had to be some logical explanation for Draco holding a wand to Ron for _any_ reason, much less using an unforgivable. There just had to be.

Thanks to a new calming draught Draco brewed for him, Harry drifted off again. He couldn’t afford to lose sleep this week. Not with the Potions contest coming up. Not if he and Draco were going to beat Hermione and Ron. Or Ginny and Blaise. More than that, he didn’t want to let his new partner down. No matter what dreams Harry had about him.


	18. At Last

December 11 1998

“Put it in now, Harry.”

“Not yet. It says to wait until _just_ before it boils.”

“But if we put it in too late, we’ll ruin it.”

“Same thing if we put it in too early.”

“But someone’s going to beat us.”

The conversation seemed to repeat over and over, until Harry saw a lone bubble form at the bottom of the cauldron and finally said, “Now.”

Harry poured in the flobberworm mucus. Draco waved his wand over the cauldron.

The pair leaned over the potion and watched. The liquid began to bubble. They held their breaths in anticipation. Before their eyes, the potion thickened and turned light pink in color.

“Harry, I think you did it,” Draco said cautiously.

“_We_ did it,” Harry corrected. He raised his hand. “Professor, we’re finished. I think it’s right,” he said tentatively. 

A few grumbles could be heard, but students kept working on the off-chance Harry and Draco’s potion wasn’t right.

Professor Slughorn looked over the boys’ potion and gave it a small taste. “Well done boys,” he pronounced. “The rest of you keep going. This potion is still graded,” the professor reminded them all. In the back of the room, Ernie and Mandy’s potion exploded.

Draco grinned widely. “We won!” he said to Harry as if Harry hadn’t figured it out. On impulse, Draco grabbed either side of Harry’s face and kissed him squarely on the lips. “You’re brilliant,” he proclaimed.

Harry’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his not-so-secret-anymore boyfriend.

“Well, look happy,” Draco said. “We won. This is a good thing,” he laughed. “What’s wrong?”

Harry swallowed, trying to find his voice. “Draco? You just kissed me,” Harry said, barely above a whisper.

Blinking at first, while his brain processed Harry’s words. Slowly, he glanced around the room. Nearly every single pair of eyes was on him. His face reddened and his mouth gaped open, but no words came out.

Suddenly, Draco stood and ran for the door.

“Draco,” Harry called, but the blond was out the door and down the corridor before the second syllable was spoken.

Laughing uncomfortably, Professor Slughorn joked, “Well, it seems Mr. Malfoy was just a bit overexcited about his win. Hurry now, if you haven’t finished yet,” he told the rest of the class.

Not looking at anyone, including Ron and Hermione, Harry set about cleaning up his station without Draco. His mind was racing. What should he say if someone asks him what the fuck that was? Not if, _when _someone asks. That would be the question on everyone’s lips. He didn’t know if he should admit to the relationship or act as though Draco simply got caught up in the moment. He needed desperately to talk to the Slytherin before someone cornered him. Unfortunately for Harry, having to clean up by himself kept him in the classroom much longer than usual. But he was nearly finished.

“Harry?” Not finished soon enough.

Without even looking up, Harry answered. “Not one word, Finnigan. Not. One. Fucking. Word.”

Seamus wisely took Harry’s advice and walked away.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione and Ron approached.

“Just bloody perfect,” he answered sarcastically.

“Go,” Ron suggested. “We’ll finish up here for you. Go find him.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. He dropped what he was doing and rushed out of the classroom.

Once out of the room, Harry wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. He didn’t think Draco would go back to his House. His first thought was to try the Astronomy Tower. It took him a while to get all the way up there after starting off in the dungeons. He had plenty of time to think about what happened and what he wanted to do about it.

The Tower was empty when Harry arrived. Disheartened and a bit winded from the brisk walk up many flights of stairs, Harry paused to lean against the railing and look out at the view.

Maybe it wasn’t exactly the way they had planned to reveal themselves, but it was done. Sure, they could still concoct some sort of explanation. But really, people always believed what they saw. And what they saw couldn’t be seen as anything other than what it was. 

Harry was relieved in a way. One of them accidentally putting an arm around the other, or holding a hand, or kissing was the thing he feared most. However, he thought it would be he himself that did it, not Draco.

Draco. Harry worried about him. He wasn’t sure where to look next. It was getting near supper and Harry began to make his way back to Gryffindor to meet Hermione and Ron. He decided to ignore anyone else that tried to talk to him as he stepped into the common room.

“Harry, thank goodness,” Hermione smiled, but still appeared worried. “Did you find him?”

Harry shook his head.

“Are you coming to supper with us?” Ron asked.

“I doubt he’ll be there, but I’ll go and look,” Harry replied.

A throat cleared behind them. The trio turned to find Seamus standing there.

Harry groaned inwardly while Ron poised ready to fight.

“I only wanted to say before that I’m sorry,” Seamus said, surprising Harry. “I’m sorry for teasing you about Malfoy. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was true. At least I’m assuming it’s true, or you would have thumped him good.”

Standing awkwardly in front of Seamus, Harry wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I mean, I don’t really have anything against it,” Seamus continued. “I have a cousin who’s a pouf-- uh, gay.”

Harry opened his mouth to make a snide retort of some sort. Instead, he simply said, “Thanks.”

And in Harry’s mind, he was officially out.

hdhdhd

Rumors had spread like wildfire throughout the school by the time Harry, Ron and Hermione got to the Great Hall for supper. So many students stopped what they were doing to watch Harry walk in that he simply stood at the entrance. He looked around, and seeing that Draco wasn’t there, lost his nerve.

“Harry, you can’t let them intimidate you,” Hermione said as Harry turned to leave. “You have to eat.”

She linked her arm in his and led him to their usual spot. Ron walked in front giving the evil eye to anyone staring too long. He could be quite intimidating himself, when necessary. By the time they reached their seats, conversations had restarted. Harry didn’t need three guesses as to what the primary topic was.

Ginny watched the trio as they approached. She had many questions for Harry but kept quiet until he sat down and finally looked up.

“Is it true? What everyone is saying.”

“That depends on what _everyone_ is saying,” Harry replied.

Ginny took the direct approach.

“I saw Malfoy kiss you in class. What I _didn’t_ see was you punch him out, as I thought you might.” Ginny paused. “Well?”

“I didn’t hear a question in there,” Harry remarked. He still hadn’t made eye contact with her.

“Let’s just eat,” Hermione suggested. Ron had already begun to dig in, but Ginny continued to stare at Harry.

Without looking in her direction, Harry addressed her. “Why don’t you just come out and ask me what you want to know.”

“Did you . . . break up with me so you could go after him?” she asked quietly.

Harry’s head snapped up. “What? No. Ginny, I swear. When we broke up, I didn’t even know . . .” He trailed off. His shoulder slumped a bit. “I’m gay, Gin. But I was confused, and I didn’t realize it back then. And I am seeing Draco.”

Ginny sat with her mouth poised to speak, unsure of what to say.

Harry looked past her to the other Gryffindors, who were attentively listening in. 

“Did you hear that? Did I say it loud enough for you? Go on, tell everyone. I don’t care,” he said angrily. He turned to the table behind him, at the students brazenly listening in. “I don’t care what any of you think. Draco and I are seeing each other. So what?”

“Harry, calm down,” Hermione said.

“I’m not going to calm down. I’m tired of everyone having to know my business.” Harry stood up. “But if they want to know, then I’ll tell them.”

He looked over the hall as students began to look back up at him. “You want to know so badly? Fine. I’m bent, a pouf, gay, homosexual, a bender, a fairy or whatever you like to call it. And I’m not ashamed. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Is everybody satisfied?” He held up his arms to emphasize his point. Without waiting for a response to his rhetorical question, Harry made his way to the entrance of the Great Hall, which remained in silent shock. The only other movement came from Pansy, who intercepted him before he could escape.

“What?” he barked at her.

Instead of returning the favor, she smiled. “Good for you. And Draco. You shouldn’t give a rat’s arse what any of them think.”

Harry’s demeanor softened. “Do you know where he is?”

Pansy shook her head. “I’ve looked. He didn’t come back to Slytherin.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw someone stand up. It was a Ravenclaw boy named Stewart, a few years behind Harry.

“Harry,” he swallowed. “If you can be brave enough, I can too.”

It was as much of a confession as the poor boy could get out. Pansy shot a look to Blaise and subtly waved for him to stand as well. She saw him mouth something to Harper and the pair of them stood. Slowly, throughout the hall, several other students stood.

“Thanks, Harry,” Susan Bones said as she stood.

In all, nine students stood amongst their classmates. Some, well known for their sexual orientation, some acknowledging for the first time publicly.

Ron glanced about and rose to his feet.

“Ron, what on _Earth_ are you doing?” Hermione tugged at his sleeve.

“Supporting Harry,” he answered. “Well, come on,” he addressed his House. “Stand up for him.” He motioned for the Gryffindors to join him.

Extremely proud of her man, Hermione stood, as did Ginny, Dean and most of the table, including Finnigan. The other Houses followed suit, the ones choosing to remain seated far outweighed by those standing.

The professors watched as the act of solidarity unfolded before them. Hagrid was the first professor to stand. The rest joined in turn.

“Professor Flitwick,” Hagrid furrowed his brow and put his hands on his hips.

“I _am_ standing,” Flitwick protested.

“Oh, right. Sorry professor.”

Meanwhile, feeling overwhelmed, Harry asked Pansy to package up some food for Draco and take it back to Slytherin. He assured her that he would find him and bring him back. Harry hurried out of the hall.

Harry had tried everywhere in the castle he could think of, and still hadn’t found Draco. He found himself back in the Entrance Hall, trying to decide where to look next. Supper was over and the stragglers were still coming out of the Great Hall.

Frustrated, Harry sat on the bottom of the marble staircase, propped his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head in his hands. Concerned students walked by, glancing at him, but none had the nerve to speak to him.

Approaching footsteps prompted Harry to look up. Finally, he saw Draco coming down the dimly lit hallway leading from the classrooms. He stood, watching, then grew impatient and began to run toward Draco.

Draco, certain Harry was going to hit him, stopped, tensed his shoulders, squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact. Harry’s embrace nearly knocked him over.

“I was so worried about you,” Harry said into Draco’s hair. “Where have you been? You’re freezing.”

“Out in the courtyard. It’s getting quite cold outside.”

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Harry scolded as he released the blond.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you in front of everybody.” Draco lowered his head.

Harry shook his head. “No, not that. I meant running away and not telling anyone where you were going. I wasn’t angry about what happened in Potions. Well, I was a little upset about you leaving me to deal with the aftermath alone.” He leaned forward.

Draco stepped back and glanced around. “Harry,” he whispered. “There are other students around. They’re watching.”

“I don’t care.” Taking a step forward, Harry didn’t let Draco get away the second time. His hands held Draco’s head in place while he gently kissed lips parted in surprise. When Harry pulled back, he grinned. “I’m out.”

“What?” Draco’s eyebrows raised high. Harry was full of surprises. “What happened?”

Chuckling lightly at the events, now that they were past, Harry told him, “Well, everyone expected me to punch you or curse you, or something. When I didn’t, the gossip started. I was able to ignore most of it at first. Ron and Hermione cleaned up for me so I could look for you.”

“But if it’s just gossip, how are you out?”

“I sort of made an announcement at supper,” Harry admitted sheepishly as he recalled Draco’s imitation. “Although, I didn’t quite do it the way you would have me do it.”

“I take it, you left out the part about wildflowers,” Draco smirked.

“I wasn’t nearly as polite as that.”

“You’re serious? You really announced it at supper?” Draco questioned. “I thought you were joking.”

“Unfortunately not. But it’s all right. Most everyone was supportive. I think a few others came out as well.”

“Always the hero, eh Potter?” the Slytherin teased.

For a moment, they simply stared at one another, realizing the implications of Harry’s actions. They no longer had to hide. No longer had to pretend they didn’t have feelings for each other.

Harry cleared his throat. “I, um, told Pansy to pack you up some food. You must be hungry.”

“Yes, I must be,” Draco said. The look in his eye made Harry think he wasn’t talking about food.

Draco quietly took Harry by the hand and led him down the stairs toward the dungeons. Pansy threw her arms around her friend the moment he stepped through the passageway.

“Dra, don’t ever run away again.”

“Harry already gave me a lecture, Pans.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you have my supper?”

She took out a napkin filled with buns, chips and a piece of apple pie. “I didn’t take any pork, sorry.”

“This is great. Thanks.” Draco couldn’t help glancing around nervously. He could feel the other Slytherins that were milling about, watching him and Harry while he ate.

Pansy sat down on the sofa on the other side of Draco from Harry. “We were planning to have a small Slytherin get together tonight. But we can make it a coming out party instead,” she bounced. 

Looking at Harry while answering her, Draco said, “I think we’ll have a more private celebration if you don’t mind.” He balled up the napkin with the remaining food and grabbed Harry’s hand. Dragging Harry with him as he threw the napkin in the trash, Draco made a point to walk past Blaise.

“I may forget to remove the locking charm,” he whispered.

hdhdhd

Harry nervously followed Draco into the Slytherin Seventh and Eighth Year dormitory. He’d never been in another house’s dormitory before. 

Glancing around, it looked very much like his own, except for the excess of green. Draco sat on his bed and watched Harry as he examined items around the room. He smiled at Harry’s obvious uneasiness. The normally agile and confident Chosen One dropped several of Draco’s belongings and walked into the foot of the bed. Fortunately, nothing was broken, so Draco took pity on him, patting the bed beside himself.

“Your roommates won’t mind me being here?”

The blond shook his head. “It’s just the four of us. Me, Blaise, Nott and Harper. Nott will find another place to sleep. He usually does. And Zabini owes me.”

“Oh.”

“Harry, relax,” Draco chuckled. “This isn’t really any different than going to the Potions classroom.”

But it was. It was very different for Harry. Meeting in secret in a neutral location kept them on even footing. At the moment, Harry was in Draco’s territory. And of course, now that everyone knew they were together, everyone knew what they were doing. Or at least, they thought they knew. Harry suddenly felt the pressure to live up to that expectation.

“So, what happened after I left class?” Draco broke the tense silence. “Did Slughorn tell you anything more about the dinner party?”

Relaxing just a bit, Harry laughed. “No, but what he said about you was sort of funny.”

“Oh, Gods, what did he say?”

“Nothing that bad. He just said you must have gotten overly excited about the win. I wonder what he’ll say when he hears about us.”

“He’s probably an old queen himself,” Draco snickered. Harry laughed as well, thinking Draco could very well be correct.

Silence overtook the room once more as Harry fidgeted and picked at his fingernails.

“Harry?”

The brunet slowly looked into the Slytherin’s eyes, certain he knew what Draco was going to ask him.

“I want you to fuck me,” Draco whispered.

“What?”

“I want you to–”

“No, I heard you,” Harry interrupted. “I, I thought you wanted me to be the one . . . you know, who takes it,” he said in all sincerity, looking down embarrassedly at his hands.

Trying his hardest not to laugh at Harry’s naïveté, Draco smiled. “The term is bottom. And I would _love_ you to bottom for me. But what I want tonight, right now, is for you to fuck me.”

Remaining quiet, Harry considered Draco’s proposal. The mere thought of it began to arouse him.

“If you’re ready,” Draco added. “Is that something you’re ready for?”

“Fuck, yes,” Harry answered. Casting his inhibitions aside, he leaned forward and kissed Draco. The blond tasted faintly of apple pie and Harry was eager to explore his mouth fully.

As they snogged, Harry loosened Draco’s tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He continued the undressing until Draco wore only the tie. He undressed himself while Draco watched.

“You look really sexy in just that tie, but I’m afraid it will get in the way.” Harry smirked and pulled it up over the blond’s head and tossed it next to the pillow.

“And I don’t think you’ll need these.” Draco removed Harry’s glasses and placed them next to the tie.

The anticipation was almost palpable. Harry leaned in again, this time pushing Draco onto his back. He kissed the pale, lean neck, and down to the collar bone. Lingering for a moment or two, Harry sucked until he left a small mark.

“Marking your territory, Potter?”

“Yes, you’re mine. I want everyone to know.”

The boys kissed and fondled one another, enjoying and prolonging the excitement of their first time together. Harry was anxious to get on with it, but after the patience Draco had shown him over the past two months, he figured he could show a little patience himself.

Finally, Draco sat up. “I’m ready. Accio, lube.” He poured a generous amount into his hand and stroked Harry’s achingly hard cock, coating it thoroughly. “Harry, do the spell,” he breathed.

Harry gladly complied.

Handing Harry the bottle of lubrication, Draco advised him, “You’ll have to prepare me. Just do what you did the other night.” Draco swallowed. “Except, you may need to use three fingers.”

Harry and Draco had been moving toward this moment slowly, but surely for the past couple of weeks. Since Draco had introduced Harry to the joys of rimming, the pair had graduated from tongues to fingers. 

Harry looked at his hand, then at his cock. He had only pleasured Draco with two fingers up until that point. That didn’t quite measure up to Harry’s erect appendage, either in length or girth. He worried that the experience would be unpleasant for his lover.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry questioned, to be certain.

“Yes, Harry, come on. Fuck me, now.”

The Gryffindor poured some lube on his fingers and got to work. Though he knew part of the reason Draco squirmed was the initial discomfort, he enjoyed the way he writhed under his touch. Soon, Draco was prepared as much as he would be.

“Lie down,” Draco ordered, and pushed Harry back onto the bed, his head at the foot of the mattress. “I think it will be better if I have control.”

The blond straddled the brunet, placing himself over the pole-like erection. Gradually, ever so carefully, Draco lowered his legs, bringing him down, covering Harry like a sheath. Both boys groaned as Draco’s bum came in contact with Harry’s bollocks.

“How does it feel?” Harry asked, concerned.

“Odd. But at the same time, good.”

Harry’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “You look incredible sitting there atop me. Feels incredible, too.”

Draco rested his hands on Harry’s chest and lifted his hips up, then slid back down. The pair groaned together once again. It was difficult for Harry to resist pushing his own hips forward, but he wanted to let Draco go at his own pace. He watched as the blond raised and lowered himself, moaning loudly with each movement.

Harry reached out and stroked the cock bouncing teasingly in front of him. The moans Draco made turned into whines, becoming louder and higher in pitch as his pace increased.

“Oh, fuck, Harry. I’m gonna cum already,” the Slytherin said breathlessly. The motions of their lovemaking continued for only another few seconds or so, then Draco threw his head back, and let out several loud groans as he came onto Harry’s chest. Normally, Draco wasn’t as vocal as Harry, and the brunet enjoyed hearing the pleasured cries. As the tension left Draco’s body and he came to his senses, he noticed Harry simply staring up at him.

“I’m sorry that was so quick,” the blond offered sheepishly. “That was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Don’t apologize. I love watching you cum. It turns me on. Even more than I was already.” Harry lifted onto his elbows and motioned for Draco to come closer so he could kiss him. “Are you all right . . . to continue?” Harry asked tentatively. Draco’s arse around his cock felt better than any snatch ever did, and he wanted nothing more than to thrust into it over and over.

Nodding, Draco answered, “My legs are a bit shaky, though. Maybe we could switch?” He lifted off completely and lay back on the pillow. He spread his legs and waited for Harry to dive in.

Pouring a bit more lube, just to be safe, Harry grabbed onto himself and guided his cock back into his lover. Though the position was a familiar one, the feeling of Draco’s exceptionally tight arse made the experience uniquely intense. As Harry pumped in and out, his hands roamed Draco’s perfectly toned body. His thumb raked a pert nipple, causing the blond to gasp.

Taking his time, Harry found a gentle rhythm, rocking the pair together. Draco’s hand took hold of his own bollocks and squeezed. He was becoming aroused again as Harry licked and sucked at his skin. His other hand softly ran up and down Harry’s back in time with their rocking motion. Draco pulled on his now fully erect penis adding to all the other sensory pleasures of the moment. When Harry leaned down for better leverage, the Slytherin’s mouth found his neck and suckled.

“Draco,” the brunet whispered.

“Mm,” the blond responded.

Harry used his toes to anchor himself and began to thrust harder and more deeply into his lover’s arse.

“Yeah, oh, fuck, yeah,” he mindlessly murmured. The bed post banged against the wall as Harry pushed more frantically. If he could have gotten his entire being inside Draco, he would have. Draco grimaced occasionally, but didn’t complain, still forcefully tugging his own cock. It wouldn’t be long before it was over, and the pain accompanying Harry’s momentum was filled with enough pleasure for him to endure.

“Draco, I’m so fucking close.” Harry began to lean back and pull out.

“No.” Draco pulled him back against himself. “Come inside me.”

A few more pumps and Harry’s voice echoed throughout the room. “Draco. Ahh. Uhh.” Harry pulled himself as close to Draco as he could possibly get while spewing cum into him.

Meanwhile, Draco gasped, “I’m going to fucking cum again.” And he did, this time on his own chest, with a bit less flourish than the first time.

Harry pulled out and collapsed on top of his lover, burying his face in his baby soft hair. His body tingled with excitement and he could feel that he was flushed. While he came down from his orgasmic high, Draco kissed him wherever he could reach with his mouth.

When he was finally composed enough to speak, Harry pushed up on his elbows and gazed at the boy beneath him. There was something he wanted to say. He nearly did. But he knew it would change the nature of their relationship, and so, instead, he said, “That was the most amazing shag, ever. In the history of shags.” He grinned. “Was it good? For you, I mean. It was amazing for me.”

The corner of Draco’s mouth raised. “It wasn’t good. It was bloody fantastic.” He laughed. “I might be walking a bit wonky tomorrow, though.”

“Did I hurt you?” Harry voice was filled with concern.

Draco shook his head, then decided to be truthful. “Well, maybe just a tiny bit. That thing’s bigger than it looks.” He glanced down between them. “It _was_ anyway,” he chuckled.

“You can’t complain. You came twice,” Harry pointed out. “I’ve never made a girl do that.”

“Because you don’t really like girls. You only like me,” Draco teased.

The expression on Harry’s face became more serious. “You’re right. I only like you. And you only like me, right?”

“Self-confidence wavering, Potter? Even after _that_?” Draco attempted to keep the banter light.

“I’m serious.”

Sensing the earnestness in Harry’s voice, Draco tried to reassure him. “Yes, I only like you.”

“So, should someone ask, I can call you . . . my boyfriend?”

Draco blinked. “I thought I was already.”

A slow grin spread across Harry’s face. “Just making sure.”

He hovered over Draco and leisurely swept his tongue across his lips. Harry felt happier than he ever had. Possibly in his entire life. He was going to spend the night in his lover’s arms and wake up to a whole new world.


	19. Afterglow and Aftermath

December 12 1998

Whistling a happy tune, with a goofy look on his face, Harry strolled into the Gryffindor common room. A few students sniggered, but he paid them no mind. Nothing was going to bring him down. Not this day.

“Harry,” Hermione sounded surprised. 

Harry turned to her. “Morning,” he grinned.

Mouth hanging open, his friend asked, “Harry, were you in Slytherin all night?”

“Maybe,” he smirked.

“Did you, um, look in a mirror before you left?”

“No, why?” He self-consciously patted his hair down, assuming he had bed head.

Hermione lowered her voice. “Your shirt is inside out. And you’re wearing two different shoes.”

He looked down. “Oh,” Harry laughed. “I was wondering why the left one was so loose. Draco’s feet are bigger than mine.”

“And . . .” She led him to a mirror and pulled him in front of it.

“Fucking hell, Harry!” Ron shouted as he came out of his dormitory. “What did you do, let all the leeches out of the potions room?” he joked.

It was Harry’s turn to drop his jaw. His neck was covered in hickeys. Instinctively, his hand covered his neck. “Shit,” he swore. “I’m going to kill him.”

Blushing brightly as other Gryffindors could no longer stifle their giggles, Harry hurried to his dormitory to grab clothes to shower. While his was in the bath, he cast a glamour spell to hide the marks left by Draco. Though Harry was outwardly horrified and embarrassed, inside he felt high, recalling how he got those marks. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and waved them away.

Harry showered and dressed for the day, joining Hermione and Ron in the common room before heading down to breakfast. He pulled Ron aside.

“Oi, Ron, you interested in going to Diagon Alley with me today? Or tomorrow?”

“You’re not spending the day with Malfoy, er, Draco?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re doing. We didn’t make plans. But I don’t want him to go shopping with me. I need to shop_ for_ him.”

Ron gave a sideways glance to Hermione. “I suppose that’s one of the perks of being with a bloke, eh.”

“What do you mean?” Harry furrowed his brow.

“You know, girls are so clingy. They need you to spend all your time with ‘em. They like to make plans.”

“Jealous?” Harry grinned.

Ron’s face dropped. “No,” he said seriously. 

“So, do you and Mione have plans then?”

“Actually, no. But I spent all my money on Mione’s Christmas presents already.”

“Well, then, that’s means she’s free. Maybe she’d like to come with me.” Harry leaned in. “You could have a bit of a break. Maybe go flying,” Harry smiled.

“I like the way you think,” Ron grinned. It was the one thing they couldn’t really do together. Hermione didn’t enjoy flying and Ron did. But he felt badly going off and doing something she couldn’t join him in. “I mean, it’s not like we have to do everything together, right? You and Mal--Draco,” Ron rolled his eyes, “don’t do everything together.”

“No. I have no intention of dropping my other friends for him. I don’t expect him to either,” Harry assured Ron.

“Good to hear it.”

The boys joined Hermione as they began to make their way to the Great Hall. Harry asked Hermione if she would like to go with him to do some shopping. She enthusiastically agreed and the pair made plans to leave right after breakfast. As the trio approached the Entrance Hall, they spotted Draco leaning against the wall just outside the stairway to the dungeons.

“I see you covered up,” Draco smirked.

“I see you didn’t,” Harry replied, referring to the mark above Draco’s right collar bone.

“Thought you wanted everyone to know who I belong to.” Draco lifted a finger to Harry’s lips and gently stroked them, licking his own as he did.

“Ahem,” Hermione cleared her throat, reminding the lovers that they were not alone. Ron rubbed his neck uneasily and looked everywhere but at his friend and his new love.

“Right,” Draco composed himself and stepped back, blushing slightly. “Shall we go in?”

Harry grabbed hold of Draco’s hand, while Hermione grabbed hold of Ron’s and the foursome entered the Hall.

Harry leaned close and whispered to Draco, “How are you feeling? You don’t seem to be walking wonky.”

“It’s amazing the sorts of spells Blaise knows,” Draco winked.

Some of the students gaped as they looked up, not necessarily believing the rumors that had spread. Others had taken it in stride. Though Harry had come out publicly himself, he didn’t address his relationship with Draco to the student body at large. Regardless of the other students’ reactions, Harry and Draco decided it was best not to display too much affection in public. Neither had done that with any of the girls they had been with and they weren’t going to start now.

Releasing one another’s hands, they nodded and walked to their usual mealtime places.

“So, Ron, I was thinking,” Harry began as he dug into scrambled eggs. “You and Draco should get to know each other a little better.”

“Me and Malfoy?” Ron rolled his eyes again. “Draco.”

“Yeah, maybe you could hang out with him while Hermione and I go shopping this morning.”

“What? You want me to spend time with Malfoy by myself? Are you mental? It’s hard enough to be around him with you there.”

“That’s because you don’t really know each other,” Harry said. “He’s a great flyer. You two could practice Quidditch together.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Ron,” Hermione chimed in. “If things work out between them, we’ll all be spending more time together.”

Ron grumbled. He knew Hermione was right. He liked it so much better when Harry was dating Ginny. The four of them got on so well, it was easy. Adding Malfoy to their group was going to be difficult.

“Come on, Ron. Remember how he helped you in Dervish and Banges,” Harry nudged.

“Harry,” Ron said through gritted teeth. “Shush.” He glanced sideways at Hermione.

“I think it’s a splendid idea,” Hermione agreed, pretending not to notice the way Ron was trying to shut Harry up. Though, she couldn’t imagine how Malfoy could have helped him out.

“But not just the two of us, alone,” Ron complained. “I need a buffer or something. You know, ease into it.”

“I say jump right in,” Hermione said. “Like swimming.”

“Oh, I know. Why don’t you play chess?” Harry suggested. “You know I’m not a challenge for you. He’s very good.”

“And it would give you somewhat of a distraction while you talk and get to know one another,” Hermione added.

Ron grumbled again. He glanced over at Malfoy sitting with his usual crowd. “What about everybody else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I have to get to know him, so do you Mione. And Parkinson. She’s practically attached at the hip with him.” Ron straightened up. “I think Mione needs to spend time with Pansy.”

“What?” Hermione gasped. 

Harry grinned. “He’s right Mione. You should. Zabini as well. We all ought to make an effort.”

“That’s different. I agree we should make an effort with Draco.” Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice before continuing. “After all, he’s not so bad. He did ask me to be his writing partner,” she smirked. “But the others . . .”

“Are his best friends,” Harry reminded her. “Now, unless you all want us to stop hanging around you, we all need to be at least civil.”

Ron sighed heavily. “Fuckin’ hell. Something tells me this relationship of _yours_ is going to be more work for _us_.”

hdhdhd

“It’s been a while since you and I spent any time alone together,” Hermione commented as she and Harry strolled down Diagon Alley. Small flurries fell from the cloudy grey sky dusting their hair lightly. The pair turned into Quality Quidditch Supplies and shook the snow from their hair. A man, dressed in robes, quickly waved a wand at them.

“You’re getting the floor all wet,” he complained and muttered a Drought charm.

“Sorry,” Hermione said. She and Harry walked further into the shop to take a look.

“What do you need here?” Harry asked.

“I want to get Ron a new Quidditch helmet. The one he wears is hideous.”

“It’s his good luck helmet, Hermione. He’s not likely to trade in for a new one,” Harry informed her.

“That’s just superstition, Harry. It doesn’t really bring him good luck,” Hermione frowned.

“I know that. And you know that. But Ron believes it,” Harry said.

“Well, then it’s time to start a new tradition.” Hermione picked up a black leather helmet. “This one is quite stylish.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think Ron cares what he looks like on the Quidditch Pitch. But, if you want my opinion, that one is nicer.” Harry pointed to a gold helmet with a burgundy velvet lining and laughed.

“Now you’re just making fun,” Hermione nudged him in the side. “May I?” She indicated that she wanted to put the black helmet on Harry. He slumped his shoulders and allowed her to place it on his head.

Hermione began tucking his hair in when she noticed a very faint mark on Harry’s neck.

“I think your glamour charm is wearing off,” she smirked.

“What?” his hand instinctively went to his throat.

“The marks are still very faint.” She pulled his scarf a bit tighter around his neck. “There. Now they won’t show at all.”

Hermione stepped back and looked at her friend. She took the helmet off him and carried to the clerk. Harry fussed with the scarf while she paid for Ron’s gift. And soon the two were out on the street once more. The snow had stopped, though it was still very overcast.

Hermione and Harry walked to three more shops before deciding it was time to stop for a bite to eat. They settled into a corner booth in the Leaky Cauldron and began to get unbundled as the fireplace kept the tavern warm and toasty.

Hermione reached out a hand across the table. “You may want to leave your scarf on. Or I could cast another charm.”

It was too hot to leave on the scarf, so Harry consented to Hermione’s spell. She was better at most of them than him anyway. Glamour charms were something he never had practiced before.

With a flourish of her wand, Harry’s secret was once again hidden. The server came by and they ordered soup and crackers, with butter beer on the side.

The pair made small talk about the weather and such, but Hermione couldn’t help stare at the places on her friend’s neck where she saw the love bites.

“Is there something you want to say Hermione?” Harry finally addressed the fact that he’d noticed her gawking.

“It’s really none of my business.”

Harry laughed. “Since when did that ever stop you? But I don’t suppose you want to hear any sordid details about my love life, now that it involves Draco.” He took a sip of butter beer.

“Not true, Harry,” Hermione protested. “I want to hear the same as I would if it were anybody else.”

Harry considered the honesty of her statement. Did she really want to hear him go on about another man? He had to admit, he’d been dying to tell someone of his wonderful night with Draco. But who would want to listen?

“I want you to be happy.”

“I am Hermione. I know, it doesn’t make sense. A year ago, if you would have asked me, I would have said that I planned to get back together with Ginny and marry her someday. I thought that would make me happy.”

“Lots of things changed since then,” Hermione reminded him. “Ginny did too.”

“I had a dream about last night. Actually, I’ve had a couple of them.”

“You mean about coming out to Hogwarts?”

“No, I mean spending the night . . . in Draco’s bed,” he blushed. “The first time, I dreamt that he held a wand to my throat when I woke up and he cursed me. I woke up before I died in the dream.”

“When was this?” Hermione asked.

“While we were still out finding Horcruxes. Back in the Spring.” Harry continued. “The second time, it started out just like the first one, but when he pointed the wand at me, he mumbled a spell and fixed my hair.”

Hermione giggled. “You do have awful bed head.” She paused, thinking. “So, is that what happened last night? Or rather, this morning?”

“No. He did pull his wand, but just to remove the charms he put up. In fact,” Harry flushed again. “He messed my hair up further and told me it was . . . sexy.” He said it quickly and practically in a whisper. “You don’t really want to hear all this.”

“Yes, I do. Harry, I want to hear that this is what you want. And that Draco is treating you well. He is, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yes. He’s been great. I was so inexperienced, and he’s had to be so patient with me.” Harry hesitated telling her the importance of the night before, but once they began talking about it, he wanted to tell her everything. He lowered his voice and leaned forward a bit. “Last night was the first time we . . . you know, actually shagged.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, but she swiftly composed herself. “Really? But you’ve been seeing each other for two months now.”

“I told you he’s been patient.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. I’m glad you didn’t rush into it the way most couples at Hogwarts seem to.”

Harry nodded, then frowned. “How long did you and Ron wait?”

“Uh. Well, that’s different. Ron and I knew each other for so many years. We were already best friends. . . “

“Hermione?”

“Oh, all right. It was right after the battle was over. But we were so filled with emotions, of every sort. Relief, but mainly grief. We needed to feel something positive. It probably wasn’t the best timing,” she conceded.

Harry chuckled. “I’m sure I would have done the same. If Molly didn’t keep Ginny glued to her side after that.”

Hermione smiled. “I believe a lot of people took comfort in one another that night.”

They sat in silence contemplating the days following the Battle of Hogwarts. The server brought their soup and asked if they needed refills on butter beer. They declined and switched to lemonade.

Quietly enjoying his food Harry noticed that Hermione looked like she wanted to make a comment or ask a question. She kept pausing as she brought her spoon to her mouth, as if to speak, but then continued to eat.

Harry put his spoon down. “Hermione, you know you can say anything to me, right? Or ask me what you want to know?”

“Am I that obvious?” she snickered. She put her spoon down as well. “Well, since you’ve given me permission . . . you told me, that night in the Potions room, that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with Draco.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Hermione went on. “And seeing as you’ve taken that big step, have you allowed yourself to do that? Have you fallen in love with him?”

Harry had been asking himself the same question. Answering yes meant opening himself up, making himself vulnerable. Not only to Hermione, but to his own fears.

“I think maybe I have,” he said softly.

“Have you told him?”

“No. I can’t. What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Hermione smiled gently. “That’s a risk we all take.” She reached across the table and lay her hand on his. “But what if he does?”

“That’s even scarier,” Harry joked.

When they finished their meal, Hermione suggested they get back to Hogwarts. It was almost two o’clock and McGonagall would be expecting them back soon.

“There was one more place I wanted to go,” Harry told her. “Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop.”

Smiling widely, Hermione nodded. “I think we have time for one more stop.” She linked her arm through his and they left the tavern to walk down the Alley toward their destination. It began snowing again, a bit harder than before.

The sweet shop was crowded, and Harry split off from Hermione to get some Liquorice Wands. He knew Draco liked them very much. So did Harry. As he perused the shop, he also picked up a few Cauldron Cakes. The Sugared Butterfly Wings caught Harry’s eye as he queued to pay for his items. He remembered Draco mentioning them during one of their conversations. He picked up a tin and added them to his order. He would save the Butterfly Wings for a Christmas gift. The other sweets he would share with Draco right away.

Hermione also ended up purchasing Liquorice Wands along with some Pumpkin Pasties.

As they left the shop, Hermione made a suggestion. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, about getting to know one another better. Perhaps we should all go to Hogsmeade or gather in one of our common rooms.”

“Hm. I like that idea. But we’re all paired up except for Pansy, so maybe we shouldn’t go out. It will seem too date-like and she’ll be left out.” Harry had another suggestion. “Instead of meeting in one of the common rooms, we could go to the Astronomy Tower. Draco and I met there a couple of times. No one really goes there this time of year.”

“I’ll talk to Ron, you talk to Draco,” Hermione suggested. A group setting seemed much more agreeable way to get to know Draco and his friends. She was pleased that Harry approved.

As Harry and Hermione found their way back to the Leaky Cauldron to use the floo, Harry was thinking about the dreams he described to Hermione.

“Mione, remember the dream I told you about? The one with Blaise and Draco talking like they were setting me up?”

“Yes. But I thought we decided that was simply your own fears manifesting themselves in your sleep.”

“Except that, they really did have a conversation similar to that. Draco told me himself.”

Hermione stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“No, wait, not like that. He wasn’t really planning anything bad. I’m not explaining this well.” Harry took a breath. “Okay, what I mean to say, is that both dreams started out one way, negatively. But then changed over the course of time. And when the events actually happened, they were not bad at all.”

They continued on, walking into the tavern.

“So, you think your dreams are prophetic, but only to a point.”

“Or maybe only as far as I can understand,” Harry said. “Can you imagine if I had had a dream about waking up in Draco’s bed and him telling me my hair was sexy, back in the Spring? I’d probably think I was going mad. It was odd enough that I was in his bed at all.”

“I see what you’re saying,” Hermione nodded. “Have you had any other recurring dreams?”

“I have. But they are much more confusing.”

She picked up a handful of floo powder and threw it in the fireplace. “Professor McGonagall’s office.”

Harry followed and when he walked through, he noticed the professor glancing at the wall clock. He and Hermione were ten minutes late. Thinking quickly, Harry took out one of the Cauldron Cakes he bought.

“For you, professor,” He smiled brightly.

Not usually one to be bribed, McGonagall looked at the treat and smirked. “Thank you, Mr. Potter. But next time, please be punctual.”

The Gryffindors strolled to their House still discussing Harry’s dreams.

“So, what other sorts of dreams have you had?” Hermione asked.

“Well, one I’ve had a couple of times involved children that looked a lot like you and Ron. I’m not certain if it’s supposed to be your children or younger versions of the two of you.”

“How can it be the future if it’s me and Ron?”

“Then I guess you’re going to have miniature replicas of yourselves someday,” Harry smiled.

Hermione smiled as well. “That dream doesn’t sound so bad. What are the children doing in the dream?”

“Nothing much,” Harry replied. “It’s just a snippet really. Although, in the last one, they seemed to be in a zoo or something. I caught a glimpse of a white animal and some sort of flowering shrubbery.”

Dreamily thinking about Harry’s vision, Hermione wasn’t really paying attention to him as he told her about another dream, in which Draco had a wand pointed at Ron, shouting “Avada Kedavra.”

hdhdhd

As Harry followed behind Hermione on the way to their House, someone grabbed him and pulled him into an alcove. He didn’t have to guess who it was. Immediately, Draco’s lips were on his. The blond held him close and ran his hands down to Harry’s bottom and squeezed.

“What took you so long?” Draco murmured.

“Did you miss me?”

“Not at all.” Draco kissed Harry’s neck and began working his way down.

Giggling in a most unmanly manner, Harry pushed him back. “Oh, no you don’t. I’ve already got one glamour on me.”

Draco pouted.

“Besides, this isn’t exactly private,” Harry said. “I have to put my packages away. Come on.” He took hold of the Slytherin’s hand and led him to Gryffindor Tower. “Oh, and I got us some treats.”

The blond perked up and happily escorted his lover through the castle. In his hurry to get to his dormitory, Harry tripped and fell forward, bringing Draco with him. Both boys landed on the hard stone floor heavily, slapping their palms to the point of stinging. Draco’s wrist was scraped open and Harry banged one of his knees hard enough for it to swell immediately. Harry’s packages flew out in front of him, spilling Liquorice Wands onto the floor.

Pushing himself up slowly, Draco asked, “You all right Harry?”

“Yeah. Are you?” He held his hand up to his chin. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. I just tripped.” Harry stopped when he heard giggling from around the corner. He realized what happened. Furious, he got up and drew his wand.

“Why don’t you come out!” Harry shouted. “Or are you too much of a coward to let me see who threw that trip jinx?”

Terry Boot and Stephen Cornfoot stepped out from behind a large pillar. They too, had their wands drawn. Boot was still laughing.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Draco hissed, drawing his wand, as well.

“Because we don’t want to see you fucking bum chums traipsing all over the goddamned castle holding hands like a couple of fairies.”

Harry leveled his wand at Boot, ready to hex him with the first thing that came to mind. But Draco put a hand on his arm and forced it down.

“Don’t. He’s not worth the trouble.”

“Now who’s the coward?” Boot said mockingly.

“Think it’s funny?” Draco taunted. “Keep laughing arsehole. Rictusempra!”

“Protego,” Harry followed, in preparation for a return hex, pulling Draco behind him.

Terry Boot stood laughing uncontrollably, holding his sides. Cornfoot cast a disarming spell, but thanks to Harry’s quick thinking, it was deflected.

Stepping out from behind Harry, Draco cast a Jelly Legs Jinx at Stephen. The Ravenclaw fell to the floor, dropping his wand.

Boot begged, “Make it stop!” Clutching his belly, he continued to twitter hysterically as tears streamed down his face.

“Leave us alone, Boot,” Draco hissed. “I’ll remove the charm, but if you ever do anything like that to Harry again, I’ll do a lot worse.”

Boot could only nod his agreement. Draco waved his wand, releasing Terry from his pain. He retracted the jinx on Stephen as well. The two pairs glared at each other.

Sneering, Boot said, “You two are disgusting. You and all the other queers around here.” He brushed himself off and marched away, Cornfoot right behind.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Draco asked. He bent down to pick up the Liquorice Wands that fell. Harry tried to bend down to help, but his knee gave out. Reacting swiftly, Draco reached out and caught him before he fell. “We should get you to Madame Pomfrey.”

“No, I’m all right. I just need ice or something,” Harry insisted.

Draco picked up the candy and packages, then put his arm around Harry’s waist. The Gryffindor put his arm around Draco’s neck and the two hobbled the rest of the way up to the Tower.

Harry gave the password and the pair stepped through the portrait.

“Harry, where have you–” Hermione gasped when she saw that his chin was bleeding. “What happened? I thought you were right behind me.”

“A couple of–”

“I tripped,” Harry interrupted Draco’s explanation. “I took poor Draco down with me,” he chuckled.

Draco, going along with Harry, told the other Gryffindors, “His knee is banged up. Someone needs to look at it.”

Hermione asked one of the third years to go to the kitchens to get ice for Harry, while Draco and Ron helped him up the stairs to his room. Ron looked away and shifted uncomfortably on his feet as Draco began to unbutton Harry’s jeans.

“Oh, please. His trousers have to come off to get to his leg.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve seen him in his pants before.”

Ron only huffed. It was one thing for the boys to see one another in their pants. It was far different seeing Harry’s lover removing his clothing.

Just then, Hermione came into the room. “Oh my. Sorry.”

“Jeez Mione. You think you’d never seen Harry in his pants before,” Ron said, mimicking Draco’s sentiments.

“Actually, Ron, I don’t think I have.”

“Oh. Right.”

She bent down to look at Harry’s knee, and asked Draco, “Did you try to heal it?”

“I haven’t done anything yet. I’m not sure what to do.”

“It’s fine, guys. Really,” Harry insisted. “Aunt Petunia always just gave me ice if I got hurt.”

“Well,” Hermione began, inspecting the injury closely. “It only looks bruised. But are you sure you don’t want to go see Madame Pomfrey?”

A few minutes later, the third year Hermione sent for ice came running into the room, out of breath.

“You didn’t have to run. I wasn’t going anywhere,” Harry joked. “Thanks.”

Hermione placed a pillow under Harry’s leg and put the ice pack on top. “If it doesn’t feel any better, or the swelling doesn’t go down by tomorrow, I’m going to insist that you go to the hospital wing,” Hermione informed Harry.

“Yes, Mum,” he said sarcastically.

“In the meantime, stay in bed for a while.”

Draco raised his hand, grinning. “I volunteer to stay with him.”

Ron couldn’t help groaning out a small, “Ugh.”

“So much for our idea to get everyone together, Mione. I’m not going to be able to get all the way up to the Astronomy Tower,” Harry said.

“What are you talking about?” Ron frowned.

“Harry and I were thinking we should invite Pansy and Blaise to a small get together. So we can all get to know each other better.”

“What?” Draco questioned. “When did you decide this?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about the two groups co-mingling. He was perfectly happy to see Harry mostly by himself, but occasionally with the other two parts of the trio. But throwing Blaise and Pansy into the mix? He didn’t see that going well.

“I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends or anything, but we should at least try to get along, shouldn’t we?” Hermione pointed out.

“I don’t know,” Draco rubbed the back of his neck. “Plus, there’s Harper, Blaise’s boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to go anywhere without him.”

“Then invite him as well.”

Draco looked to Harry, eyes pleading to get him out of this conversation with Hermione.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Harry said instead. “I don’t know them either. And if I’m going to spend any time in Slytherin . . .”

“Oh, I see, blackmail,” Draco smirked. “You’re becoming more and more Slytherin all the time.”

“Why don’t we just invite them here?” Hermione suggested.

“What?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Well, Harry can’t go anywhere, and we can play a game or something. Very informal. Will you ask them, Draco?”

The way Hermione said his name, not with its former spite or animosity, softened Draco’s demeanor. For a moment, he thought perhaps he could be part of their group, an accepted member. By Hermione and Harry, anyway.

Draco shrugged, “I’ll ask. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Why don’t you go talk to them,” Harry told Draco. “Ron and Hermione will keep me company. You can come back later.”

“What about supper?” Draco asked. “How are you going to do that?”

“You can stay with Harry while we go,” Hermione put forward. “We’ll bring you both some food.”

Reluctantly, Draco agreed and left for the dungeons. Hermione questioned Harry again about how he fell, but he deflected her questions and changed the subject. He noticed Ron’s discomfort with the Slytherin on Harry’s bed. And even more with the prospect of having to entertain Blaise and Pansy.

Dean and Seamus joined them in the dormitory and Hermione extended the invitation to their gathering. Seamus decide he wasn’t going to miss it for the world. If for no other reason than to get a shot at Pansy.

hdhdhd

“Harry?” Ron called as he opened to door to their room carrying a tray with two plates of food.

He walked in to see Harry still lying in the same position on his back, but with a large conspicuous lump under the covers. The lump appeared to be bouncing slightly. 

“Blimey, Harry. You could have warned me.” Ron shut his eyes and stood helplessly holding the tray, not knowing if he should put the tray down or run out of the room with it.

Laughing, Harry tried to calm the redhead down. “Ron, wait. Draco isn’t doing anything but playing a prank on you.”

Harry threw the covers off, revealing Draco, who was trying so hard not to laugh that he was practically convulsing. Under the blanket the movement looked much more unsettling to Ron. Finally releasing his laughter, Draco fell backwards on the bed.

“He was simply adjusting the ice pack,” Harry explained. “He thought it would be funny to play a trick on you.”

“I never knew you had any sense of humor,” Ron said dryly.

Composing himself, Draco replied, “I have an excellent sense of humor. I wish I could have seen the look on your face, though.” He began laughing again.

“It was pretty funny,” Harry said, laughing as well.

Ron himself, couldn’t help but smile. He enjoyed seeing Harry having fun, even if it was at his expense.

“I guess it was funny,” Ron conceded. “But only because nothing was going on,” he added, implying that Ron would not find it humorous if he ever did catch them in the act.

Ravenously hungry, the boys cleaned their plates while they talked about plans for the night. It had been decided that Blaise, Harper and Pansy would join the Gryffindors and Draco in the boys’ room. Seamus offered up some butter beer and Dean told Ginny to come as well. Molly Weasley had just sent some baked goods and Ginny said she would bring them. It was shaping up to be a party, if only the guests could get along.

Hermione re-examined Harry’s knee and saw that some of the swelling had gone down. She refroze the ice that had melted a bit in the hours since first putting it on Harry’s leg. Reluctantly, she agreed with Harry that a trip to Madame Pomfrey was probably not necessary.

hdhdhd

“Where’s Neville?” Hermione whispered to Ron.

“He and Luna had plans already”

“They make a very cute couple, don’t they?”

Ron shrugged. How was he supposed to know? “I guess.”

Hermione and Ron joined the rest of the party, choosing to sit on the end of Ron’s bed.

“So, you’ve never been in Gryffindor?” Ginny awkwardly asked the Slytherins. The entire group, sitting scattered around the room, sipped butter beer or firewhiskey or pumpkin juice quietly. Every so often, someone would make some mundane observation or ask an impersonal question. But for the most part, they simply glanced around at one another.

Finally, Draco looked to Harry and sighed. “Shall I ask the first question?”

Harry didn’t know why he didn’t think of it before. It was how he and Draco first got to know more about one another. There wouldn’t be any binding spell here tonight, but the conversation would get moving.

“_First_ question?” Ginny asked. “Didn’t I just ask a question?”

“That wasn’t a question. That was small talk,” Draco waved her off.

“Draco and I played sort of a question game at the wand parties. The rules were that we had to answer honestly and completely. And no subject was off limits. It definitely cut out small talk,” Harry explained.

“So, I’ll go first,” Draco reiterated. He glanced around the room, deciding who to question first. “Ginny.”

She sat up straight and appeared startled. The ginger got nervous as she anticipated what Draco could possibly want to ask her.

“Was it really a surprise to you that Harry’s gay? Or did you have your suspicions?”

Ginny could feel her face warm.

“Ooh, that’s pretty juicy, Dra,” Pansy grinned. “I think I’m going to like this game. But what makes you think everyone will answer honestly? She probably won’t–”

“No,” Ginny said, before Pansy could finish her sentence. “I thought it was a possibility.”

Harry was shocked. “Did _everyone_ know but me?”

There were a few snickers around the room. Seamus spoke up. “Well, maybe we didn’t know at the time, but looking back, there were signs.”

“But really,” Ginny continued. “I only thought that because I didn’t want to believe that I just wasn’t attractive enough.” Before Harry could protest, Ginny put her hand up. “I know you said that wasn’t why you broke up with me. I’m okay with it all now. Really.”

Harry smiled at her and nodded. “Your turn then Gin.”

She looked around. She and Blaise had been lab partners for two weeks and he seemed pretty straight forward, ironically, but Pansy was a mystery.

“Pansy, why do you shag everyone? Don’t you have any self-respect?”

“Ginny,” Harry chided.

“No, it’s all right Harry. No subject is off limits, remember.” Pansy took a sip of her drink before answering. “I suppose if you want to psychoanalyze it, you would believe I’m punishing myself for throwing away love when I had it, and now I’m having lots of sex to try and make up for it.” She took another sip. “Or maybe I simply love shagging. It feels good, with the right lover. And I want to do it while men still find me attractive. I don’t see why it’s okay for Theo to bed a different girl every week, but if I do it, I’m a tart.”

“But you’re _our_ tart, luv,” Draco smiled. “And it’s your turn.”

Pansy did her best to hide her melancholy and asked Hermione a question. “Granger,” the Slytherin looked pointedly at her, then at Ron. “Don’t take this the wrong way Weasley, but I’ve always wondered, Granger, why you didn’t go after Harry rather than him. He’s hardly your equal.” She gestured to Ron, who scowled.

“Oh, yeah, none taken,” he said sarcastically.

“Harry? And me?” Hermione almost laughed, but she didn’t want Harry to take it the wrong way. “We’ve been like brother and sister from the day we met. I’ve just never thought of him in a romantic sense. I’m certain it’s the same for him.” Almost as an afterthought, Hermione added, “And Ron is very clever. And brave. Without Ron’s help, Harry and I couldn’t have accomplished all we did last year. He just doesn’t clamor for attention over it.”

Ron sat up straighter at Hermione’s defense of him. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“All right, Granger, your turn,” Pansy rolled her eyes.

Hermione’s eyes immediately went to Draco. “Why Harry? Of all people, why choose someone you despised at one time?”

“As I recall, you and Ron didn’t get along for most of your years here,” Harry butted in.

“Now, Harry, it’s a good question.” Draco patted Harry’s arm to quiet him. “Why Harry?” he repeated. He looked at his partner for a moment. “I don’t know. He has many wonderful qualities I wasn’t able to acknowledge before. And faults that I was sure were there, I struggle to find now. I didn’t choose him. Fate chose for me. And . . . fate chose well.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth curled up at the private reference. He had no idea what Draco was going to say. But somehow, he summed up what Harry thought as well. He leaned forward and gave Draco a tender kiss, which, of course, Draco reciprocated.

“Aw,” Harper said, and squeezed Blaise’s arm.

Ginny found herself smiling at the display of affection before Ron loudly cleared his throat.

“Well, it’s still weird for the rest of us,” Ron muttered.

As the group started chattering again, Hermione noticed that Pansy had looked away while the boys kissed, appearing somewhat pensive. Since the girl didn’t seem particularly sentimental, Hermione thought Pansy’s first explanation for her behavior was spot on, though it was intended to be sarcastic. And Draco was that lost love of which she spoke.

A few more questions were asked and then, strangely enough, they began talking amongst themselves. Seamus made his way closer to Pansy, who seemed to be back to her usual flirty self. Ginny and Blaise talked academics, while Harper left Blaise’s side to offer his services to Hermione. At first she was insulted, but when she found out that he was the one who did Parvati’s hair, she gave him a second listen.

Ron was sitting alone finishing his butter beer, when Draco approached him.

“Look, Weasley. Can I call you Weasley?” Draco appeared to have a bit more to drink than Ron thought. “Right, I think if I’m going to be shagging your best friend, maybe we ought to get to know each other better.”

Ron’s eyes grew big and he got flushed. He didn’t expect Draco to come out and say they were shagging. It was definitely one of those things you pretended not to know about your friends.

“So, Ron.” Draco put his arm around his shoulder. Ron hadn’t nearly enough to drink for that. He gingerly removed the arm and scooted away a bit. “I hear you like to fly and play chess. I like to fly and play chess. Not at the same time, mind you. That would be stupid.”

“Yeah, I play chess. And you know I fly. I’m on the Quidditch team.”

“Great, maybe I can play with you sometime,” Draco grinned. “I mean, chess. I don’t really want to play with _you_. You’re not my type.”

Ron glanced over at Harry, who was busy talking with Hermione and Harper. “Yeah, all right.” He would do it for Harry. “Excuse me.” Ron got up and moved over to Ginny.

“Ronald, did you know that Harry and Draco planned that whole thing?” she asked accusingly.

“What whole thing?” Ron was beginning to think he was better off back with an overly friendly Draco.

“The Potions project. Blaise and Draco faked their fight.”

“No, it was a real fight,” Blaise corrected.

“It may have turned out that way, but they planned it so that Harry and Draco could be partners. And I lost Hermione over it.”

“Hey, we came in second.”

“But Hermione and I may have won.”

Blaise crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, she came in third.”

“That’s only because she got stuck with my idiot brother.”

“Oi, I’m right here,” Ron complained. He got up and tried to join another conversation. He glanced at Pansy and Seamus. No way was he cutting in there. Whatever Harper was saying to Harry and Hermione, he was using huge hand gestures. His friends were laughing, but the faces Harper was making were enough to give Ron pause. He almost didn’t see Dean sitting in the corner by himself. Ron wandered over.

“They’re all a bit much, eh?” Ron joked.

“What?”

“Malfoy and his friends. They’re very ‘in your face’. Don’t you think?”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Something wrong?”

Dean looked over at Ginny. “Has she said anything to you about me?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe she’s not happy with me or something.”

Ron took a sip of his butter beer. Relationship talk. Great. This night was a total bust for him.

“No, why?”

“I think she’s going to break up with me,” Dean said quietly.

“What makes you say that?” Ron couldn’t help his curiosity.

“She just seems . . . down. Like there’s something on her mind. And whatever it is, Gin’s not telling me about it.”

“Well, Ginny hasn’t said anything to me. Not that she confides in me or anything.” Ron frowned. “You know, it’s getting near Christmas. It won’t be the same without Fred. Maybe Ginny’s just been thinking about him a lot. I know I have.”

Dean hit his forehead with his palm. “Oh, how could I be so stupid? I asked her to spend Christmas with me. She seemed horrified that I would even suggest it. That’s probably why.”

“Yeah, we’re all going to the Burrow. Me and Hermione, Ginny, and all my brothers, and Harry. It’ll be crowded, but why don’t you come too?”

Dean drew his brows together. “She didn’t invite me.”

Ron took another sip of butter beer. He didn’t know what to say to that. He glanced at the small clock beside his bed. It was late, one-forty. At the risk of being called a party pooper, Ron decided it was time for everyone to leave.

“Oi, I’m going to bed. I think it’s time for lights out,” he announced.

“Excellent idea,” Pansy agreed. “Which bed is yours, Seamus?” His eyes went wide and he pointed. Pansy jumped on and slipped under the covers.

“Well, if she’s staying, I’m staying,” Draco said, lying on Harry’s bed.

“Well, I’m not staying in here with all of you,” Ginny said. She held her hand out toward Dean. “You coming?” He took her hand and they left for her private room.

“Come on Harper. Let’s go,” Blaise pried him away from Hermione.

“Just give it some thought,” Harper begged her. “You won’t be disappointed,” he called as Blaise dragged him out.

Ron looked hopefully at Hermione. “Are you staying as well?”

She bit her lip. She hadn’t actively planned to spend the night in Ron’s bed before. It wasn’t as if they’d never had sex. She and Ron booted Harry out of the room plenty of times. But this was the first time she was thinking about spending the entire night with him. And waking up with him. It seemed a big step to her. Even though Harry had already spent the night with Draco and they’d been seeing each other for a much shorter time. And it appeared that Pansy was going stay, and she wasn’t even dating Seamus.

“Please?” Ron whispered.

“All right,” Hermione finally said. “But I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll be right back.”

“What about you, darlin’?” Seamus asked Pansy.

“I figured I could use your toothbrush,” she grinned. “I don’t need pajamas.”

“Holy shite,” Seamus whistled. “You’re somethin’ else.”

Harry looked down at Draco, who had already fallen asleep. His knee was feeling a bit better, so he made his way to the loo to get ready for bed. Although he wanted Draco to stay, he wished the blond hadn’t had too much to drink. Harry noticed that Pansy kept filling his glass with firewhiskey and he lost track of how much he had drunk.

When Harry made it back to bed, Hermione was dressed for bed and standing awkwardly next to Ron’s bed, waiting for him. Harry limped over to her.

“This is strange, isn’t it?”

“To say the least,” she agreed. “I think I liked it better when we were all sneaking around,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s like a big sleepover party.”

“I don’t think Seamus and Pansy are going to get much sleep,” Hermione giggled. “I just hope they remember to put up a silencing charm.”


	20. Slughorn, party of six

December 19 1998

“What do you think? Black shirt, white tie or moss green shirt, black paisley tie?” Draco queried. “I’m wearing black trousers.”

Harry shrugged. “Uh, they’re both fine. Draco, why do you still wear so much black?”

“Because I’m still so bad,” he answered seductively and grinned.

Harry playfully rolled his eyes.

“Actually, I just haven’t been shopping in a while. Don’t I look good in black?”

“You look amazing in black,” Harry said. “I’d just like to see you in some nice colors. Maybe pink.” He winked.

“No pink. But for now, I guess I’ll go with the green.” Draco slipped on the shirt and began to button it up. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Looking down at himself, Harry frowned. “What? Slughorn said casual.”

“I don’t think he meant _that_ casual. At least put on a tie and jacket.”

Harry glanced in the mirror. New jeans and a white button-down shirt. Having no idea who else was showing up, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to put on a jacket and tie. But he wanted to be comfortable. “All right, but I’m leaving the jeans on.”

Draco picked out one of his own ties, a textured tangerine coloured, for Harry to wear and pulled up his collar to put it on for him. He paused to give Harry a kiss.

“I won’t be able to do that again for a while,” he smiled.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I hope you don’t mind that I asked Professor Slughorn not to mention our, um, situation at the supper tonight.”

Draco continued to loop the tie through itself. “No. You were right to do that. Otherwise the whole evening would be all about us. This way, it’ll only be all about _you_,” he grinned.

Harry frowned.

“Come, on, Harry. You know you’re more famous than anyone Slughorn could invite to this party.”

As he was tightening the tie up, Blaise walked into the dormitory.

“Oi, Harry, you’re letting him dress you now?” He shook his head. “You gonna let him cut your meat too?” he snickered.

“Yeah, I thought I’d let him chew it for me as well,” Harry joked back.

“And swallow?”

“Touché.” Harry smiled.

“If you two are finished, can Harry borrow your houndstooth jacket?” Draco interrupted. He was glad that Harry and Blaise got on all right, but sometimes their banter made him a tad jealous.

“Sure. I think it may be a bit big, though.” He got out the jacket and handed it to Harry. “You know, Harper’s more your size. He’s got a fabulous black leather sports coat.”

Draco glared at Blaise. “He looks fine.”

Rummaging through Harper’s things, Blaise missed the look Draco gave him and ignored his comment. “Here, put this on, Harry.”

Feeling a bit strange, Harry complied.

“Oi, what’s going on?” Harper asked as he walked in on the scene. “Is that my jacket?”

Draco smugly grinned, thinking Blaise was about to get hollered at.

Harper spun Harry around a couple of times. “Looks good on you. But wait, not that shirt and tie.” He went into his trunk and pulled out a claret coloured silk shirt.

“No, the green one, to match his eyes,” Blaise protested.

Harper rested his hands on his hips. “Shades of red compliment green.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ll just stick with the shirt I’m wearing. And the other jacket.”

Draco quickly held out the houndstooth jacket, secretly thrilled that Harry didn’t take Blaise and Harper’s fussy advice and followed his instead.

“You look great,” Draco smiled. “Ready?”

“You bet.” Harry couldn’t wait to get away from the fashion show.

hdhdhd

“So, Miranda, when will we be seeing another book from you?” Slughorn asked Miranda Goshawk. 

The author of the Standard Book of Spells smiled coyly. “Well, Horace, as a matter of fact I have been working on putting together a compendium of new spells.”

“Oh! Splendid,” Horace responded.

“It’s been a bit slow going,” Miranda told him. “I don’t get around as well as I used to. And I’ve been having to rely on rumors and hearsay to find new spells. Wizards have not been forthcoming about their own invented spells. I give full credit of course. Unlike that unscrupulous Lockhart.”

“So, you travel around gathering new spells written by modern wizards?” Harry asked, just joining the conversation.

“Exactly,” Ms. Goshawk replied. “I’ve gone to the Ministry trying to get some sort of system in place to report and record new spells.”

“That’s a marvelous idea,” Slughorn smiled.

Harry was beginning to think Slughorn only invited Miranda in order to flirt with her. Perhaps he and Draco were wrong about his sexual orientation after all.

“Have you ever heard of Sectum Sempra?” Draco asked, bringing Harry’s heart to a near stop.

“Hm. Sectum Sempra? Why no, I don’t think I have,” Goshawk eyed up Draco, who had been relatively quiet until then.

“Harry can tell you about it.”

“Draco,” Harry said in a low voice. It wasn’t something he wished to talk about.

But Draco continued. “It was one of Professor Snape’s spells.”

“Severus Snape?” Miranda echoed. “Ooh, I bet it’s a nasty one,” she snickered. “Harry, how is it you know of this?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind,” Harry answered and walked away.

“He’s a bit sensitive about it,” Draco told Horace and Miranda. “He once used it, not knowing what it was. It causes slashes, much like those caused by fangs or claws in your opponent. A lot of blood loss.”

“I knew it would be nasty,” Goshawk nodded. “May I add it to my compendium? I’ll give full credit to Severus.”

“I suppose I am the closest thing he had to a son. And seeing as he had no remaining blood relations, I could be considered his next of kin,” Draco explained. “Yes, I think Severus would have been proud to be included in your book. Excuse me.” Draco walked from the pair to look for Harry. He found him speaking with Glenda Chittock, host of the WWN program, The Witching Hour. Or rather, he was listening to her. As she spoke for a living, it was what she did best. And quite a lot of it.

Draco approached, smiling. “Pardon me while I borrow Harry for a moment.”

He didn’t wait for a reply and took Harry by the elbow to lead him away.

“Did I upset you?”

“Why did you bring that up?” Harry asked. “You know I don’t like to talk about that.”

Draco sighed. “Yes, I know. But I thought it was important to get Severus’ spell into her book.”

“Why? It’s a horrible spell.”

“You only think it’s horrible because you used it on _me_. If you had used it on Greyback or Voldemort, you would have thought it brilliant.”

Harry only looked at him. Draco was right, mostly.

“And what better way to make sure Severus’ name goes down in history than to have his brilliance in print for all to read?”

Thinking about it, Harry had to agree. “Maybe I can tell her his story, what he really sacrificed during the wars.”

Draco smiled. “That would be nice.”

Harry leaned close. “Thanks for getting me away from Glenda Chittock. She was going on and on about Ministry politics.” He rolled his eyes. “This is supposed to be a party.”

“Are you not going to also thank me for dressing you?” Draco quirked an eyebrow.

Harry looked at the other guests, none of whom were wearing jeans. But at least he wore a tie and jacket.

“Oh, okay. You were right. Thank you. But boy am I glad I didn’t wear that leather number.”

“Later,” Draco winked.

A small bell rang, announcing the service of supper and the guests took their places at the round table. Olivia Tifft, a Divination expert, sat down next to Harry and greeted him. Glenda tried to sit on the other side of him, but Draco swiftly stole the seat almost right out from under her. Chittock settled on the chair next to Draco.

Slughorn sat on the other side of Olivia and Miranda took the seat next to him. There was one chair remaining when the guests were all seated.

“Professor, is someone else expected?” Harry inquired.

“I’ve also invited Gwenog Jones”

Draco’s eyes lit up. “The captain of the Holyhead Harpies? She’s coming here?”

“I had hoped she be here by now,” Horace frowned. “Well, we shouldn’t let our food get cold. Dig in.”

The guests enjoyed rack of baby lamb, jacket potatoes and asparagus while they talked.

“Mr. Potter, I would love to interview you for my show,” Glenda spoke up.

“Me? Oh, I don’t think there’s really any more to tell,” Harry smiled. The last thing he wanted to do was give yet another interview. He’d had his fill over the summer.

“Nonsense. There’s always more to tell. And people want to know.”

“Really, there isn’t any more to tell,” Harry insisted. “I’ve just been trying to get through the school year and into the Auror program. Very boring, actually.” He put a rather large bite of potato in his mouth hoping she’d get the hint that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“I cannot wait to read your palm, Mr. Potter,” Olivia grinned.

“Please, call me Harry. I’m just Harry.”

“And of course, yours as well, Draco,” she added when she saw that he noticed the lack of attention directed at him.

“Please, call me Mr. Malfoy,” Draco said dryly.

At first horrified, Harry saw the tiny smirk on his suitor’s face and burst out laughing. Fortunately, the rest of the table joined in.

“Quite funny, Draco,” Horace commented. “You are rather different from your father. I don’t recall him having much of a sense of humor.”

“Draco is _nothing_ like his father,” Harry said, a bit too adamantly.

Miranda raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know? I understand the two of you have been rivals since childhood. Frankly, I’m surprised that you are so friendly.”

“I’m friendly with a lot of people I wasn’t friendly with before the war,” Harry answered. His tone was even, but he couldn’t help the blush that crossed his cheeks.

“Yes,” Slughorn added. “The students at Hogwarts have managed to put aside many of their differences. It’s quite remarkable.”

“Wonderful,” Olivia interjected. “You know, I had a vision as I was preparing to come here tonight. One of,” she glanced at Harry and Draco before finishing, “unity.”

Harry had a feeling she didn’t say what she originally meant to.

Just then an owl appeared at the window, clicking its beak on the glass. Slughorn went to the window and let it in to retrieve an envelope tied to its foot.

“Draco, my boy, would you mind fetching a treat for the bird from the cabinet?”

As Draco went for the treat, Slughorn removed the envelope and opened it. His lips moved while he read the note inside. He frowned, then smiled widely.

“I’m afraid Gwenog won’t be joining us this evening,” the professor announced. “Pity. I do enjoy her company and you seemed to be looking forward to it, Mr. Malfoy.”

“I’m a big Quidditch fan. Especially the Harpies.”

“Well, then it’s not a total loss.” Horace held up three small tickets. “She’s sent the three of us tickets to the next match against Puddlemere United.”

“That’s Oliver’s team,” Harry commented.

“Who?” Draco asked.

“Oliver Wood. He was my captain when I joined the team first year. You don’t remember him?”

Draco shrugged. “But we get to go to a match,” he said excitedly.

“Quite right,” the professor grinned. “Ah, I see that pudding is being served.”

House elves cleared the supper dishes and placed small plates of raspberry sorbet along side chocolate layer cake in front of each guest. Slughorn sent the owl back on her way and sat down.

“Now, where were we?” he inquired.

“I believe Harry was declining an interview,” Miranda reminded them.

“Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Really?” Draco was surprised.

“Really?” A slow smile crossed Glenda’s face.

“Really,” Harry affirmed. “I think there’s more to tell after all.”

“Floo my office and we’ll set up a time slot,” Ms. Chittock said. “Although, we’re here together now. I could use my voice recording quill.”

“You have one of those? Aren’t your shows live?” Slughorn was always very interested in new magical devises.

“I confess that I have used it on occasion,” Glenda told Slughorn. She leaned down to retrieve the special quill from her bag. “Some of my guests can be stubbornly reluctant to come to me. What do you say Harry?”

“Sure.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Draco whispered.

“Something I shouldn’t be afraid of doing,” he whispered back. “What is it you’d like to know, Ms. Chittock?”

“Now? Here, in front of everyone?”

“Why not?”

Glenda smirked. “All right.” She waved her wand at the quill. “So tell me, Mr. Potter, how are your studies coming along this year?”

“Very well, thank you,” he smiled. “It’s amazing how much better one can do without having to juggle studies with fighting an evil empire,” Harry answered sarcastically. “I hope to do well on my N.E.W.T.s.”

Glenda smirked. “I shouldn’t think you need worry too much about your scores. You’re a shoo in for the Auror program. One would almost think you needn’t bother with your N.E.W.T.s.”

Harry took a bite of cake before responding. “Actually, I _was _hoping to become an Auror. But since the war ended, I’ve considered other options.”

Chittock blinked, at a loss for words. “Other options? What else would you do?”

Shrugging, Harry casually answered, “I dunno. Maybe I’d rather help people directly. Become a Healer or something.” He gave Draco a sideways glance as the corner of his mouth rose slightly.

“You’ll have to do better in Potions for that, Potter,” Draco threw in.

“Well, I did win the Potions contest,” Harry countered.

“On _my_ coattails,” Draco teased.

“Hm, who was it that timed the flobberworm mucus perfectly?”

Sensing that the flirtatious nature of their banter was not going unnoticed, Draco swiftly dropped the subject and continued to spoon sorbet into his mouth.

Glenda cleared her throat. “So, your future plans are as yet, up in the air.”

“For the time being,” Harry answered.

“What about your future with Miss Ginevra Weasley?”

Harry met Ms. Chittock’s eyes. He knew the subject would be broached sooner or later, and now his heart sped up just a bit.

“Ginny and I have broken up. We’re still the best of friends, though,” Harry quickly added.

“I see. And has someone else caught the eye of the famous Harry Potter?”

Hesitating slightly and making a conscious effort not to look at Draco, Harry said. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“My, this is becoming quite the exclusive,” Glenda grinned, pleased at the turn of events. “Will you tell us who the object of your affection is?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s–”

“Harry!” Draco shouted. “Are you sure you want to do that? Shouldn’t you at least talk to your, uh, partner before announcing that. What if their parents don’t know yet, or something.”

Miranda frowned. She was hoping to get some good dish out of the evening and the Malfoy boy just spoiled it.

“Oh,” Harry gasped. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Of course not, Potter,” Draco said, partly to deflect attention from himself, but also because he was sincerely irked with Harry. He wanted to be the one to inform his parents of their situation himself and not hear it on the Wizarding Wireless.

“Will you not even give us a tiny hint?” Miranda pleaded.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. Draco is right, I need to have a discussion before I make a statement.”

Glenda Chittock tried her best to steer the conversation back to the topic of Harry’s love life, but he stood his ground. Instead he regaled them with stories of his adventures with Hermione and Ron. It only served to fuel Draco’s foul mood. After sweets, the group retired to a small area in front of the fireplace for a cocktail. Pulling Draco aside, Harry apologized for almost giving away their relationship.

“Oh, it’s not only that,” Draco groused. “I may as well not have come. They’re all only interested in your story. Can’t say that I blame them.”

There wasn’t much for Harry to say. He knew it was true. Yes, someone would ask Draco and occasional question or comment to him. But it was almost always in regard to Harry or the war.

A small smile grew on Harry’s face. “Well, _I’m_ interested in you,” he whispered. “Let’s call it a night and go back to your room.”

“You’re going to pass up a reading by Olivia Tifft? Are you mad?”

“Don’t tell me you buy into all that rubbish,” Harry frowned.

“It’s not rubbish. Well, some of it is, but she’s the leading Divination witch. Aren’t you curious what she’ll have to say?”

Disappointed, Harry agreed to stay. Draco had actually been looking forward to his reading. And thus far, the evening hadn’t been all he’d hoped. Except for the Harpies tickets, of course.

Olivia sat down at a small round table. In front of her were a deck of Tarot cards, a pot of tea and two cups, and a crystal ball.

“Which one of you would like to go first?” She saw the glint in Draco’s eyes. “Perhaps you?” She held her hand out to him.

He placed his hand in hers and watched in awe as she scrutinized every line and curve of his large, yet delicate hand.

“Hm. Masculine and feminine at the same time. You are a sensitive young man,” she smiled. Olivia continued to examine Draco’s hand, reporting what she saw as she went. “I see a long lifeline. As well as a long love line. However, there is a small break in the line.” Her finger followed the contours of his palm leading to his fingers. “Long fingers. Air is your element.”

“I enjoy flying very much,” Draco commented. Olivia nodded.

Next, she traced the line under his index finger going across his palm. “This is the head line,” she told him. “I can see that you’re very intelligent. Potions is your passion.”

Draco glanced at Harry and smirked. In his mind, his faith in her was completely justified.

She frowned and stopped to study a specific area of his palm.

“What’s wrong?” the young Slytherin asked, frowning himself.

“Hm.”

Harry and Draco both waited anxiously for her to elaborate.

“I’m not quite sure,” Ms. Tifft finally answered. She pointed to a spot on Draco’s hand and explained. “This is the fate line. It’s always a bit harder to read than the others, but in this case, I’m baffled.”

“Great,” Draco muttered.

“Don’t be discouraged. It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Tifft told him. “It’s . . . somewhat fuzzy in the middle. You see, down here, where it begins?” Draco nodded. “It’s quite clear. Your fate seems written in stone, so to speak.”

“My path was laid out before me when I was young,” Draco said. “I didn’t have much choice.”

“Yes. The Death Eaters.” Olivia moved her finger to the top of the line. “Right here is where you end up. It’s a vastly different path.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Harry asked.

Smiling, Olivia reassured him, “Yes, that’s good. But what puzzles me is the lack of definition in between.” She scratched her head. “I can’t make the connection. Something will happen to you that is out of your control to change your fate.”

“But I already have changed it,” Draco protested. “I’ve come back to Hogwarts. I’ve rejected the ways of the Death Eaters. I’ve even tried to have the Mark removed.”

“Those are all conscious decisions. And of course, they shape your path as well. But they may not necessarily be able to change your future. Fate has a habit of stepping in.” The fortune teller perked up and sat up taller. “But I see nothing to worry about. It will all work out in the end.”

Draco was still a bit uneasy. However, overall, he was pleased with his reading. Olivia poured a cup of tea for Draco and bade him to drink it, leaving just a bit at the bottom.

Harry and Draco watched her as she swirled the cup three times, then placed it upside down on the saucer. Tifft turned the saucer back over and turned the handle toward herself. She studied the leaves for a moment before speaking.

“Well, I was correct. Potions is where your talent lies. One of them, anyway.” She winked at him. “I see a career making Potions for you. Perhaps an apothecary shop of your own.

“I knew it.” Draco grinned. “What about my, um, love life? A family?”

Shaking her head, Olivia reported nothing. “Most of the time, the things that appear in the leaves are the things we are most concerned with. Perhaps, right now, you are more anxious about a career than a family. You’re just a boy, after all.”

“I’m eighteen,” the blond protested. “And a half.”

From across the room, Miranda shouted, “To us, that is a boy.” She and Horace laughed heartily.

“Or perhaps, that path is already quite clear to you,” Olivia offered. She stole a peek at Harry.

Harry didn’t notice the blush that graced Draco’s face as the prophesier did. She decided to change the subject.

“What method do you prefer, Mr. Potter?”

“It’s Harry, please. And it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Ah, willing to let fate choose for you. You’re somewhat of a cynic aren’t you Harry?”

“I just think there are too many possible explanations for what soothsayers claim to see. Professor Trelawney may have gotten a few predictions right. But she made hundreds of predictions that never came true.”

“Fair enough,” Tifft agreed. “Some are more gifted than others. Let’s try the ball for you.”

She took Harry’s hands and placed them on either side of the crystal ball. Olivia closed her eyes and began murmuring a spell.

“Concentrate, Harry,” she whispered. “Close your eyes.”

Harry rolled his eyes before he closed them, making Draco giggle.

“Sh,” Olivia chided. “Now, Harry, think about your future. Ask a question in your mind. Concentrate.”

The room fell silent as the others watched Harry and Olivia sit with their hands on the ball, eyes closed for several minutes. Suddenly, Olivia’s eyes sprang open and she gazed into the crystal.

“There.”

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He, too, gazed into the ball but saw nothing more than he had before. He was about to ask what she was looking at when she began to speak, her voice not quite the same as it was.

“Two children. A boy, and a girl. They are running.” She smiled. “They are happy. They are happy with you, Harry.”

“I can’t see anything,” he frowned. “What do they look like?”

“The boy is auburn haired. Freckles, but just a sprinkling. He is taller than the girl. She is also slightly freckled, but with sandy blond hair. A bit unruly. There is a glimmer in her eye. She’s a feisty one.”

“Are they at a zoo?” Harry asked.

“A zoo? Why would you think that?” Draco questioned. “That’s an odd thing to presume.”

“I’ve dreamt about these children.”

Olivia gasped. “Yes, you are connected to them strongly.”

“At first, I thought they were Ron and Hermione as children. But then I thought maybe they were Ron and Hermione’s future children. That’s who they are, right?”

The prognosticator shook her head slowly. “These are _your_ children.”

“Mine? But I probably won’t . . .” he gave a quick glance at Draco. “Could they be my Godchildren? That would make sense. I would spend time with Godchildren.”

“No.” Olivia said matter-of-factly. “Emotionally, these are your children.”

“Emotionally. What about biologically?”

“I can’t read the science of biology in a crystal ball. So I can’t answer that. But these are not someone else’s children that you love or are attached to. In this vision, you think of these two children as your _own_.”

“Anything else? When? When will I have these children? Who is the mother?”

Olivia suddenly slumped in her chair. Only briefly. She sat up and addressed Harry.

“I’m sorry, the connection was lost. You were becoming upset and disrupted the flow of magic.”

“Oh. Did you see anything else?” Harry asked.

“No. I’m sorry. I could only see your connection to the boy and girl, no other’s. I don’t know who the mother would be.”

“They certainly sounded like Weasleys to me,” Draco commented, not happy at all with Harry’s reading.

“Well, that was exciting!” Miranda exclaimed. “Horace, thank you for a wonderful evening. But I must be going. It was enchanting to meet you boys. I’ll be in touch about that spell, young man,” she said to Draco.

“Actually, you should speak with him.” He jerked a thumb in Harry’s direction. “He’s the one who used it.”

“Then I shall have to speak with both of you. Enchanted to meet you Ms. Tifft. Glenda, always a pleasure.” Miranda walked to the floo and disappeared.

“Thank you for the interview. When you decide to come out, owl me, Harry.” Glenda held out her hand to shake.

Harry’s eyes widened. “When I what?”

“Come out with the news about your new young lady. I do hope you’ll come to me rather than that vulgar Rita Skeeter.”

“Oh. Of course, Ms. Chittock.”

Draco was busy setting up an appointment for another reading with Olivia Tifft as Harry was saying his goodbyes to Slughorn. She gave him her business card and pulled him close to speak softly in his ear.

“I wouldn’t wait to talk to your parents, if I were you. I’ve seen the headlines.” She nodded and said no more, but Draco realized what she meant. It was just one more thing for him to worry about.

hdhdhd

Draco barely had the locks on the Potions room door before Harry had begun to undress him.

“I’ve got to have you right now,” Harry breathed, already hard in his own pants and threatening to burst out.

“Slow down,” Draco stilled Harry’s hands. “God, I’ve created a monster,” he laughed.

Harry pouted.

Sighing, Draco kissed his cheek. “I want you too. But . . . my bum is still a bit sore from last night.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t say anything.”

“I’m fine” Draco assured him. “But maybe we could just use our hands. Or . . .”

Draco dropped to his knees and unbuckled Harry’s belt. The bulge in Harry trousers made them so tight, the blond had trouble popping the button. When he freed Harry’s cock, at last, he intended to lick and suck well enough to make Harry forget all about his arse.

He led Harry to the cushions, then undressed himself while Harry removed the rest of his own clothing. Harry lay down and waited for Draco to finish. This moment was almost all Harry could think about through dinner. As amusing as the evening was, Draco kept him distracted with a subtle hand on his thigh throughout the meal. Harry wondered how he got to the point of wanting to fuck Draco to the exclusion of all else. He was completely under Draco’s spell.

Climbing on top, Draco positioned his mouth over Harry’s mast-like cock, while his own dangled above Harry’s face. Immediately, Harry took the hint and licked the prize in front of him.

Draco dropped his head down to look between them at Harry. “I can’t believe we haven’t done this position before.”

Not bothering to answer, Harry got to work on his end. The angle was a bit awkward at first. But when he pushed Draco on to his side, they each had better leverage.

Harry followed Draco’s lead in pace, and when Draco realized it, he used Harry as a model for what he wanted. He teased Harry’s cock with the tip of his tongue, licking up and down the length. He sucked the leaking head, moaning as Harry mimicked his ministrations. Taking the entirety of Harry’s cock into his mouth, Draco bobbed up and down, reveling in the feeling of Harry’s mouth on his own cock.

When he was near the brink, the Slytherin removed his mouth.

“Stop. I’m ready to cum. But I want to wait for you.”

“I’m close,” Harry replied. “Just a bit more.”

Draco continued lavishing attention while Harry grew closer to his own climax. Harry kept Draco on the edge with an occasional lick or suck.

“Ah. So close.” Harry closed his mouth around Draco’s cock once again and gave his bollocks a light squeeze. Just as he felt the beginnings of his orgasm, Draco released into his mouth, his cry muffled by Harry’s cock. He continued to milk Draco until both he and the blond were spent and collapsed, apart.

“That was fucking brilliant timing,” Draco sighed.

Harry chuckled. “It was a bit strange though, don’t you think? I sort of felt like I was sucking myself off.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Draco wriggled his eyebrows.

Looking down at his deflating penis, Harry shook his head. “I’m not that flexible. Besides, that’s what you’re for.”

Draco turned on the cushions and lay next to Harry, his head resting on the brunet’s shoulder.

“Olivia knows about us,” Draco said out of the blue.

“How?”

“Uh, clairvoyant?”

Harry laughed. “All right. I’ll give you that one.”

“I have to tell my parents soon. She said she saw a headline about us. I’m assuming the Prophet. I don’t want my parents reading about it in the papers.”

“Should I go with you?”

Draco thought about it. He wanted to speak with his mother in person. But he was hoping he could get his mother to break the news to his father in Azkaban. He truly wasn’t sure if he wanted Harry by his side or not.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I’m not certain how Mother will react. She’s always been supportive, and I think she suspects that I’m attracted to men. But it may still be difficult for her. I’d better give her the news alone.”

“Whatever you want.” Harry wouldn’t admit that he was a little disappointed. After all, he felt that he and Narcissa had come to an understanding of sorts. A truce even.

Draco looked up at Harry. “So, you’ve had dreams about having kids?”

“I thought they were Ron and Hermione’s kids. They looked like they could be.”

“But Olivia said they were yours. And they have red hair and freckles. They sound like they could be yours and Ginny’s.”

“Draco, I don’t love Ginny. I don’t want to be with Ginny. I’m not going to have children with Ginny. I’m probably not going to have children at all.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a bit difficult to have a baby without a girl. I told you before, I’m completely off girls. I’m not like you.”

Draco blinked. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

“For now. What happens when you’re older and you want to have a family? You asked about that tonight. Obviously, you want a family someday.”

“Well, yeah. Someday. Not any time soon. Maybe ten years down the road.”

“I still won’t be able to have children ten years down the road. Draco, you’ll have to find a woman for that.”

Draco couldn’t figure out why Harry was saying such hurtful things to him. Did he think Draco would just leave him when he was ready to start a family? 

“You’re the one with the future children, not me. The ones that sound like part of the Weasley clan.”

They lay in silence for a while, each thinking about what the other said. Finally, Harry broke the silence.

“That’s why I don’t like all the prophesying and palm reading and all that crap. It’s rubbish. So she saw some kids that I’ve been dreaming about. I still say they’re Ron and Hermione’s. If I ever do have a family, I can’t imagine now how that will happen. So I choose not to think about it. It will be, or not.”

“I suppose you’re right. There’s no point getting worked up about it now. We’ve got careers to worry about first.” Draco leaned up and kissed Harry. “I’m sorry for getting upset about something you haven’t even done yet,” he chuckled.

“It’s all right,” Harry smiled. “But please, don’t keep that appointment. I don’t want her putting more ideas into your head. Let’s live for today. The future is coming soon enough.”


	21. Happy Christmas

December 20 1998

“I wish I was staying,” Draco said as he hugged Harry tightly. You shouldn’t spend Christmas alone.”

“There are other students staying. I won’t be alone. And you’re still meeting me for supper at the Weasley’s house, right?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “But they hate me. Do I have to?”

“Yes. Otherwise you won’t get your Christmas present,” Harry smirked.

Pouting, Draco relented. “Oh, all right. I’ll go. But only if they all know I’m coming. The last thing I need is one of them to hex me to Hell because they don’t know I’m with you.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry assured him. “They all know I’m bringing you. It’ll be fine.”

Draco hugged Harry again. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” a mocking voice said from around the corner.

Harry and Draco broke apart to see Terry Boot making kissey faces at them. “No fucking for eleven days? How will you queers ever survive?” He laughed. “By the way, how’s the knee, Potter?” Boot walked toward the front door and walked out giggling.

“At least he won’t be here with you,” Draco commented.

They kissed and said one more goodbye, then Draco was gone.

Harry slowly made his way back to Gryffindor. Only he, a Sixth Year and two Fourth Years were staying. But he didn’t mind. Draco had been a huge distraction and he had a lot of work to make up over the break. He was glad for the quiet time. His plan was to get it all finished by Christmas Eve, so he could enjoy Christmas through New Year’s Eve. Hopefully, he would be able to convince Draco to come back with him after supper at the Weasleys.

hdhdhd

December 24 1998

The day before Christmas. Surprisingly enough, when Draco wasn’t around to distract him, Harry had been able to get all of his schoolwork caught up. He was looking forward to going to see Ron and Hermione the next day. Along with the rest of the Weasley clan of course.

However, Harry’s chief reason for staying was not to intrude on what promised to be a difficult Christmas break for the family. Ron had been melancholy lately and Ginny appeared to have been crying several times. Harry sometimes felt guilty for being happy when so many other families were going through such sad times.

Harry was on his way to the Great Hall that evening when he saw Draco standing in the Entrance Hall, by the staircase with a small trunk in one hand and a paper in the other.

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Harry could see he had been crying.

“I’ve just arrived back.”

“What happened?” Harry took the trunk from Draco’s hand. “I was on my way to supper. Are you hungry?”

Draco shook his head but walked alongside Harry. 

Resisting the urge to ask again what happened, Harry sat down next to Draco at the table where the rest of the students had gathered. There were so few students that remained over the holidays, that they all sat together at one table.

“Oi, mate, what are you doing back?” Blaise asked, surprised. “Not that I’m not glad to see you.”

Throwing the paper across the table, Draco answered, “Someone told already. I should have let you tell that Chittock woman after all. At least she would have been objective.”

“Shit.” Harry yelled. “Rita fucking Skeeter.”

Blaise picked up the paper from Harry and began to read. “_According to confidential sources at Hogwarts, savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter has been outed as a homosexual. After breaking the heart of young Ginevra Weasley, the one-time hero was revealed to be bedding none other than Draco Malfoy, his supposed childhood nemesis. The Death Eater, whose father now resides in Azkaban, has been a known predatory bisexual for several years at Hogwarts. This reporter, for one, wonders if Potter and the Malfoy heir were in league with one another during the war. Could much of the senseless tragedy have been avoided, but for the lust of two young boys? And what truly happened in the Tower that led to the death of beloved Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore?_ That’s bullshit.” Blaise shouted. He crumpled up the paper without finishing the article.

“Father is furious with me. He saw the paper and sent me a howler. Apparently, the revelation of _my_ sexual orientation is affecting his status in prison. He’s in solitary for the time being. For his _protection_.”

Putting his arm around Draco’s shoulder, Harry asked, “What did your mother say?”

“She’s embarrassed by the press obviously. She went to have Christmas in the country with a distant cousin and sent me back here.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry frowned. “I knew Skeeter would write something unflattering about me, but this is outrageous. She called you predatory! I’m going to her office tomorrow and–”

“Tomorrow’s Christmas, Harry.”

“Oh, right. Well, right after Christmas, I’m going to make her retract all that. I can’t believe she insinuated that we didn’t tell the truth about Dumbledore’s death.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Draco sighed. “Even if she does retract it, people are going to believe what she wrote first.” He hung his head.

“He’s probably right,” Blaise agreed. He looked at Harry and mouthed something Harry couldn’t make out. Harry shrugged slightly. He mouthed back _what_.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “You all right, mate?” he asked Draco. “I mean about your mum giving you the boot on Christmas Eve.”

Harry wondered how he could be so stupid. Of course Draco might be upset by the Prophet, but his mother’s rejection was what was truly hurting him.

“I’ve never spent a Christmas away from her. I didn’t even get a chance to give her a gift.”

“She probably thought you’d be safer here,” Harry put forward. “No press to bother you.”

“And, maybe she’s okay with you and Harry. Since she sent you back here to him,” Blaise suggested.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Do you know where she is? We could go to her tomorrow before the Weasleys.”

“Fuck, I forgot about them,” Draco groaned. He shook his head. “I don’t know exactly where Mother is. It’s all right. I’ll see her after the holidays.”

Harry lowered his head to look into Draco’s eyes. “I’m sorry for what happened, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

With tears still glistening in his eyes, Draco smiled at him. “It was boring at the Manor anyway. Mother was busy planning her parties that she can’t have now, and Pansy only visited once.”

“You can stay with me,” Harry said. “Most everyone else is gone.”

“Okay,” Draco was smiling but his eyes were still sad.

hdhdhd

Lying on Harry’s bed, the Gryffindor lavished kisses on Draco’s face and neck. He stopped sucking and pulled back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Leaning forward, Harry resumed licking Draco’s neck while caressing his chest. He sighed.

“Draco, what’s wrong?”

Sighing himself, Draco answered, “Nothing. It’s just something my mother said.”

Harry waited for Draco to elaborate. He asked, “Which was?” when the blond was not forthcoming.

“I didn’t want to talk in front of Blaise, but Mother actually encouraged me to come back to you.”

Smiling, Harry said, “Brilliant. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“She wants me to sow my wild oats so when the time comes, I’ll marry Astoria and be content.” Draco laughed humorlessly. “Daphne refused. She said it was too awkward that we both jerked you off. She doesn’t like to share. Me, that is.”

“Hm. So, I’m a wild oat?” He laughed a little at that.

“She said it was just about the sex. It’s a phase and I should get the curiosity out of my system.”

“Oh my god, your mother talked to you about us having sex?”

Draco looked at Harry. “It isn’t just about the sex, right?”

“Of course not,” Harry replied. “Did you tell her I wouldn’t even let you kiss me at first?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” the Malfoy heir said. “It’s none of her business. Harry, this isn’t just a phase.”

Harry smiled and rubbed Draco’s thigh. “I know.”

“Is it okay if we don’t do, you know, anything tonight?”

“But we are doing something,” Harry said. “We’re spending our first Christmas Eve together.” He waved his wand at the wireless and switched on the WWN. The pair listened to music while they talked well into the night.

hdhdhd

December 25, 1998

Harry’s eyes sprang open just before dawn. He couldn’t sleep any longer. Small snores came from the messy blond head next to him. He considered waking Draco up, but then decided Christmas day was the one day you shouldn’t wake someone. Harry never enjoyed Christmas as a child, with the Dursleys. He enjoyed it more with Ron’s family. However, he was never really excited like he was this day. Giving gifts to Ron and Hermione gave him pleasure, but he was nearly bursting with the anticipation of presenting Draco with his gifts.

Unable to lie and stare at the ceiling any longer, Harry quietly got up, showered and dressed for the day. Instead of regular clothing, Harry dressed in a fresh pair of flannel plaid pajamas. Christmas was definitely a day to lounge around. He went to the common room and started a fire. By then, his stomach began to growl, and he wanted Draco to wake up so they could get to breakfast. Only a handful of other students were in the castle, along with a few professors, and breakfast wouldn’t linger.

As luck would have it, Draco came wandering out just then, stretching and yawning loudly.

“Happy Christmas! Feeling better this morning?” Harry smiled brightly.

“Yes. Last night was just what I needed. Happy Christmas to you too. How long have you been up?” he asked.

Chuckling, Harry answered, “Before daybreak, actually. Are you hungry? Or do you want to do presents first?”

“Presents.” Draco’s stomach growled noisily. “Heh heh, maybe breakfast.”

They strolled down to the Great Hall and leisurely ate crumpets, scrambled eggs and sausages, with a bit of eggnog. Harry couldn’t help grinning after every bite.

“What’s the matter with you, Potter?” Draco teased. “You look like a kid on Christmas.” He winked at Harry.

“I’ve never had anyone . . . special to give gifts to,” Harry admitted, embarrassed.

The corner of Draco’s mouth raised. “Really? I’m the first?”

“First?” Harry’s smile dropped. It hadn’t occurred to Harry before that there may be others _after_ Draco. He assumed that it would always be the way it was now.

“What’s wrong now?” Draco sighed.

“Nothing. Are you finished eating yet?” Harry tried to forget about his negative thoughts. He wanted to enjoy the day.

“Yes. Let’s go back,” Draco suggested.

As they walked, something had been nagging Harry, and he finally decided to bring it up.

“I’m not _your_ first,” Harry said out of the blue. 

“What?”

“You probably spent special Christmases with Pansy.”

“Harry, don’t.”

“I’m just saying . . .”

Draco stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. “The thing with Pansy seems a lifetime ago. We were kids.”

“But you told her you were going to marry her someday.”

“Did you mean everything you said when you were fifteen?” Draco questioned. “My father told me I was to marry Pansy. He and Parkinson were forming an alliance. I don’t know if I really felt something for her, or I talked myself into it. When I told her, she bolted. She may have gone on with some romantic story about unrequited love, but I got over it quickly enough. I had to. Shortly after that, I was informed that I was to take my father’s place among the Death Eaters.”

Harry suddenly felt foolish for bringing it up. He sounded insecure and jealous.

“Pansy and I are only friends. Good friends, but no more. Like you and Hermione.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, feeling as though he ruined Christmas before it barely began. “But I never had sex with Hermione.”

“Then should I be jealous of Ginny?”

Harry hadn’t thought of that. “No, of course not.” He smiled. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Eggnog,” he said to the Fat Lady.

The portrait swung open and they stepped through. No one else was there. Though he missed Hermione and Ron, Harry was happy to have the common room to himself and Draco. He sat down by the fireplace and began pulling aside gifts for Draco.

“Maybe I should take a shower first,” Draco said, patting his hair down.

“You don’t need to shower, it’s Christmas.”

“I should at least brush my teeth,” the Slytherin made a face. “They’re fuzzy, and I have sausage breath.”

“Fine, make it quick,” Harry said impatiently. He continued to divide the gifts into two piles. Ron and Hermione had both left their gifts for Harry behind, so his pile had a few more gifts in it.

As Harry waited for Draco to return, he began having second thoughts about the gift he bought. Hermione was with him, and said she thought it was perfect. But still, Harry wavered. He didn’t like second guessing himself, and there was nothing he could do to change it now anyway, so he tried not to be anxious.

Draco came back from the loo smiling. “You’re fidgeting. Are you nervous or something?” he teased.

“I hope you like what I got you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Draco answered sincerely. “I’m happy just to spend Christmas with you. I wish you hadn’t wasted any money on me.”

“I didn’t waste it,” Harry protested.

“I only meant that . . .” Draco struggled to find a way to put what he wanted to say, without insulting Harry. “You should have saved it for when you leave Hogwarts. You’ll need money to find a place to live until you get a job.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Harry told him. “I’ve got plenty. Not as much as you, but I’m comfortable.”

Draco’s brow furrowed. “But you always wore hand me downs that were too big for you. And you never seemed to have any nicer things. The pocket watch you carry is dented.”

Harry laughed. “I suppose I was never one to care much about material things. Besides, if my aunt and uncle caught wind of my account at Gringott’s, they’d have found a way to take it. I kept it a secret from them.”

“Oh, I always thought you were poor, er, less fortunate.”

Snickering, Harry replied, “Then at least I know you’re not after me for my money. And now you know I’m not after you for yours.”

“I never thought that,” Draco objected.

“I’m only teasing,” Harry smiled. “Here.” He handed Draco a small package wrapped in plain brown paper. “It’s from Molly.”

“Molly who?” Draco frowned.

“Molly Weasley, of course.”

“Then it must be for you.” Draco tried to hand it back.

“Nope, this one is mine.” Harry held up a similar package with an H on it. The package Draco held had a D written on it.

Draco sat and looked at the package. He couldn’t understand why Ron and Ginny’s mother would send him, of all people, a gift. Harry opened his. It was a scarf and glove set, hand knitted by Molly herself. The set was green to match Harry’s eyes.

“You’ve probably gotten the same thing. Open it,” Harry urged.

Reluctantly, Draco opened the package and found that it was indeed a scarf and glove set, but in a soft grey colour. Harry reached over and wrapped the scarf around Draco’s neck.

“It looks great,” he smiled. “It’s almost the same colour as your eyes.”

Still confused, Draco questioned Harry, “Why would she do this for me? Surely they must all hate me.” He took off the scarf and set it, with the gloves, aside.

“If they hated you, they wouldn’t have invited you to Christmas supper.”

“They only did that because of you. I can’t go there now. I didn’t get her anything.”

“Well, I did. It’ll be from both of us,” Harry explained.

It didn’t sit well with Draco. He was raised to be a thoughtful guest, not one who simply stuck his name on a card from a truly thoughtful guest. He had planned to bring the bottle of wine that he and Harry never opened on their first date. But that wasn’t the same as a Christmas gift.

“You can’t back out now. They’re expecting both of us,” Harry pointed out.

Sighing heavily, Draco gave in. “All right.” He plucked a small box wrapped in elegant gold paper with a red ribbon from Harry’s pile and handed it to him.

“This one is from me.”

“Do you mind if I open the ones from Ron and Mione first? Then we can open ours together.”

Draco watched as Harry unwrapped a book about dream interpretation from Hermione and a Reusable Hangman game from Ron. Ron also gave him bruise remover paste, along with a short note about trying it for the hickeys Draco left on his neck constantly.

Harry laughed. “I guess Ron is tired of seeing your marks all over me.”

“Tough,” Draco grinned. He suddenly pounced on Harry and pinned him down, sucking hard on the side of his neck. He only released Harry when he was confident he left a dark enough mark to embarrass Ron.

“Draco.” Harry yelled, pushing the blond off him. “All the Weasleys are going to see that.”

“Oops,” Draco said unashamedly. “I’ll help you cover it up. Later. I want you to open my present now.”

Still pouting a bit, Harry pointed to the gifts next to Draco. “Open the tall one first.”

Harry waited for Draco to start, then began to unwrap the gold box. He wanted to catch Draco before he opened the other package, but the brunet was too busy gawking at a gold pocket watch. Harry ran his finger over the front. There was a shallow relief of the Hogwarts castle on it. Clicking the tiny knob on top opened the cover, revealing a sepia clock face with Roman numerals and intricate wand replicas as the hands. It was the most impressive watch Harry had ever seen. He vaguely heard a gasp from Draco, while he was still admiring the piece.

“Harry, this is . . . wow.”

Looking up, Harry saw that Draco had the box open. Inside lay the tie pin from the second-hand shop.

“Do you like it?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s gold and platinum,” Harry said, smiling. He debated telling Draco the story behind it but decided against it. He was pleased that Draco seemed to really like it.

“Do you like the watch?” Draco asked. “I noticed the one you have is dented. I had this made just for you. The watchmaker was so happy with the design, he added it to his collection. But yours is the first.” Draco reached out and turned the watch over in Harry’s hand. “See? He’s signed and numbered it.”

“Thank you. I love it.” Harry chuckled, “I’ve been carrying Fabian Prewitt’s old pocket watch.” When Draco’s face remained blank, Harry clarified. “Molly’s brother.” Harry continued to admire his new gift while Draco did the same.

“Oh, no.”

Harry looked up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Draco said quickly, looking guilty. He stared at Harry for a moment, stiff. Then slowly, he held his hand out. “I’m so sorry. I broke it already.” Draco appeared as though he was about to cry. Harry just sat across from him, mouth gaping.

“I’ll have it fixed straightaway. I can take it to my mother’s jeweler.”

Harry continued to gawk.

Lowering his head, Draco apologized several more times.

“Draco,” Harry whispered when he finally found his voice. “Did that open for you?”

“Open? I thought I broke it.” Draco sighed heavily with relief. “You mean it’s _supposed_ to do that?”

Harry hesitated, “Well . . . it is if . . .” He began trembling. “Draco, do you love me?” Harry swallowed hard.

Biting his lip, the blond blinked at Harry’s question. Why would he put Draco on the spot like that? How was he supposed to answer? If he said yes, would he scare Harry off? He wasn’t certain he was ready for that particular confession.

Harry suddenly realized that Draco didn’t know the tie pin’s history. His question must have come across as forward and presumptuous.

“Because, I . . . I’m in love with you.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up and he inhaled sharply.

Gesturing to the tie pin, or rather pins, now that they had separated, Harry told him the story. He explained that he bought it because it reminded him of Draco, and he thought it would look wonderful on him. Harry never dreamed that it would actually open for him.

But since it did come apart when Draco picked it up, he had to ask the question. He had to know if it was true. Harry had just opened his heart and sat, more vulnerable than ever, waiting for Draco’s response.

After listening to Harry’s tale, Draco looked at the pins in his hand, as if they would tell him the right words to say. He smirked a bit, thinking that they told him exactly what to say. They’d already spoken for him, apparently. And Harry took the first leap. Draco need only meet him halfway.

Tossing the pins back into the box, Draco leaned forward, capturing Harry’s lips in a fever he hadn’t felt with anyone else. Harry released the watch he had been holding and ran his fingers through the silken tresses tickling his cheek.

As wonderful as snogging was, Harry still wanted a verbal answer. He pushed Draco’s shoulders back slightly, and the Slytherin took the hint. Breaking the kiss, he gazed at Harry, breath panting lightly.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Gods, yes. I am in love with you. I _have_ been, forever, it seems.”

This time Harry leaned up to meet Draco’s lips and they shared their first kiss after both declaring their love. 

“Let me show you. Let me make love to you, Harry.”

Harry nodded. And Draco’s hands were quick as lightning, unbuttoning Harry’s pajama top.

Stilling Draco’s hands, the brunet softly said, “Not here.”

Glancing around the common room, Draco agreed. There were three other students in the Gryffindor dormitory, plus the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place for sex.

Draco turned on his heel and headed for the Eighth Year boys dormitory, stripping as he walked. Following behind, Harry added to the trail of clothing left by his love.

Harry knew what to expect. He felt prepared and found that he was looking forward to feeling Draco inside him. He knew Draco would be a wonderful lover. 

Not one to disappoint, Draco worshipped Harry, leisurely kissing him everywhere while his fingers loosened him up. The Gryffindor relaxed and allowed himself to be poked and prodded until Draco gently pushed his legs far apart.

“Ready?” he asked Harry.

Harry nodded and watched Draco’s face as he slowly inched his well lubricated cock inside. Groaning with each small push, Harry gasped when Draco finally hit home. He thought he had been prepared for the feeling, but compared to Draco’s relatively small fingers, his cock filled Harry completely. It felt strange and wonderful all at once. Then Draco began to move, and Harry understood why Draco came so quickly the first time. He had the urge to pull on his own erection, but Draco beat him to it, stroking in time with his thrusts. The sounds coming from Harry’s mouth disconcerted him. He felt as though he should have been embarrassed by how loudly he was moaning, but he wasn’t. And Draco seemed to be enjoying it.

They moved together, in perfect sync. Not that they normally didn’t, but this time felt different to Harry, besides the obvious. Not just lust. There was no uncertainty, no holding back. He gave Draco everything he had. And took everything Draco had to give. Harry felt powerful and desirable and loved. He wanted to feel that way for the rest of his life.

Draco, however, felt something different. At first, he felt a nudge at his magic. It built slowly, causing a pleasant tingle throughout his body. But as Harry pulled him tighter, he began to feel pain. Dull, at first, then coming into focus. It seemed to emanate from his extremities. His fingers and toes felt as though they had fallen asleep. As Harry’s moans grew louder, the prickly sting traveled along Draco’s legs and arm. Eventually, the pain centered itself on his left forearm. He cried out, but not in ecstasy, as it may have sounded to Harry. 

Arching his back, Harry let out a loud groan. He came hard and long onto his own chest. His lover had long since released his cock and Harry had his fingernails dug into Draco’s back. He couldn’t recall ever cumming before without constant friction of some sort. The thought was short-lived, as a wave of the pain Draco had been feeling hit Harry. He felt as if his heart–no, not his heart, his soul, was being sucked out of him. His eyes sprang open to see his lover grimacing as he emptied himself into Harry.

Draco collapsed in a heap on top of Harry, barely able to catch his breath. Having a bit of trouble himself, the brunet waited a moment before speaking.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, breathless.

“I, I don’t . . . know,” Draco answered shakily. “I felt like I was on fire. Literally. I’ve never had a more painful experience in my life,” he said, absentmindedly. Then realizing what he’d said, he tried to back pedal. “I mean, it wasn’t _all _bad. I was exaggerating a bit.” He decided it was probably best to stop talking.

“Was it like that the whole time?” Harry questioned. A look of worry crossed his face.

“No. At first it was great. It was beautiful.” The blond frowned. “But then, it was as if your magic tried to take over mine. I couldn’t fight it.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to do anything. I was just . . .” Harry squeezed his eyes shut. “Just loving you.”

Draco pushed himself up on his hands. “I didn’t mean that I thought you were doing something on purpose.” He remembered Pansy telling him at the beginning of the year, some old witch’s tale about powerful wizards and sex. But he and Harry had sex a few times and nothing like that had happened before. “Harry, has anything like this ever–fucking hell. It’s gone.”

Harry opened his eyes and tried to sit up. “What’s wrong? What’s gone?”

“The Mark,” the former Death Eater breathed. “It’s gone.” He frowned. “It really hurt. It was more painful than getting it.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel fine. Actually, I feel . . . fantastic now.” He rubbed his chest, then flexed his left hand. “It’s like the shadow of dark magic that was there, was taken away. Oh, Gods, Harry, I didn’t even ask you if you’re all right.”

Harry grinned. “I feel fantastic too. It wasn’t until the end that it got . . . weird. What do you think happened?”

Draco lay down next to Harry and laced his fingers behind his head. His eyes were drawn to his bare forearm and he stared at it while he and Harry talked.

“Pansy told me some old witch’s tale about powerful wizards giving off magic during sex. Well, I thought it was an old witch’s tale.” He finally tore his gaze from his arm and settled it on Harry. “I think you made the Mark go away.”

“How?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t know. But I feel more aware of you now. Sort of like peripheral vision, but with magic.”

Harry nodded. He felt the same thing. A slow grin crossed Harry’s face. “You love me.”

Draco turned to face Harry. “Yes. I love you.”

Harry’s thoughts went to his journal. He would be happy to report that his last entry was unfounded after all.

“Other than Mother, I’ve never said that to anyone. Not even Pansy. Well, not those words.”

“Oh, I thought . . .”

Shaking his head, Draco answered Harry’s unasked question. “I never actually said it. I told you, I’m not even sure I really felt it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. When she said she would never consent to marrying someone who may keep male lovers on the side, it hurt. She all but squashed any feelings I may have had for her.”

“Lovers on the side? Why would she think you’d do that?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s somewhat common. Especially among the purebloods.”

Seeing the look on Harry’s face, Draco quickly added, “But _I_ wouldn’t. I’ve seen my mother humiliated by my father’s lack of discretion. Though it’s common practice, most men are more adept at keeping their mistresses hidden from their wives. Mother has had to entertain her rivals on more than one occasion. Even as a boy, I sensed the tension. I would never want to make anyone feel the way my mother must have felt.”

“I would never do that either,” Harry said.

Smiling, Draco rolled to his side and hovered over his lover.

“Good, because I’m not sharing you.” He leaned in and kissed Harry. “Ever.”

“Me neither,” Harry sighed. “I love you.”


	22. I've Got a Secret

December 25, 1998 continued

“Molly,” Harry grinned. “Thanks for having us.” Harry wrapped his arms around his surrogate mother and squeezed.

“You look thin,” she said.

“Harry, so good to see you.” Arthur held out his hand for Harry to shake. He turned to Draco. “Um, Draco.”

Draco looked down at the outstretched hand and tentatively took it. “Mr. Weasley,” he said contritely.

“Arthur,” he replied.

The rest of the greetings were mainly hugs for Harry and nods for Draco, but it was more than he’d even hoped for. Before supper, the family gathered in various rooms of the home catching up on news and gossip. Harry and Draco were the subject of much of it. Harry noticed a conspicuous lack of conversation whenever he and Draco entered a new room.

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked Harry, finally cornering him alone.

“Yeah. It’s just that everyone is talking about us, but not really _to_ us. It’s like the elephant in the room.” He knew Hermione would understand his reference, being raised in the muggle world.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” she replied. She glanced at Draco in another corner talking to Fleur. “I wonder what on Earth they could be talking about.”

“Draco knows French. And she doesn’t know that much about his personal past. I suppose she’s a safe person to talk to for him.” The blond glanced over at Harry and Hermione and smiled.

Hermione nodded. “You two seem to be on cloud nine. Draco appeared a bit nervous but, the way he’s been looking at you all evening makes me think there’s a new development.”

Harry blushed. “There is.” He leaned closer and whispered to her. “He told me he loves me.”

She smiled and hugged him. “I’m so happy for you. And did you finally tell him how you feel?”

Harry nodded. He looked down at his tie and pointed to the gold tie pin in the middle. “Remember the tie pin I bought and the story behind it?”

“You deserve it Harry, really. Both of you.” Her smile dropped. “I saw the paper. How are you coping?”

“He’s taking it harder than me.” Harry watched Draco as Arthur approached him and offered him a butter beer. “His parents haven’t been understanding. But we’ll be all right.” He took a sip of his own butter beer and screwed up the courage to broach the subject he was truly interested in. “Mione, have you ever heard of someone’s magic taking over someone else’s?”

“Not really. I’ve heard of binding magic, but I don’t think one person’s magic takes over. It’s more like joining. It’s been done at marriage ceremonies.”

“Like an Unbreakable Vow?”

“No, it’s not related to one specific incident or idea, like an Unbreakable Vow. It’s not something you can break, you’re joined, permanently by magic. Not too many couples do it nowadays. Not with divorce rates so high.”

“Oh. Can you do it by accident?”

Hermione laughed. “I don’t think so. It’s done by a wedding officiant. Why are you asking about it?” She gasped. “You aren’t thinking about getting married already are you?”

“What? No.” Harry insisted. “Wait, can we? I didn’t think same sex couples could get married.”

“Well, not legally but there are ceremonies just for that.”

“Hm.”

“Supper’s on dears,” Molly appeared next to them. “Make sure you get enough to eat Harry.” She looked Hermione up and down. “You as well, young lady.”

Hermione and Harry giggled as Molly walked away.

“Do you think we’ll ever have enough meat on our bones for her?” Harry wanted to know. “I wonder if she’s said anything to Draco.”

“Poor thing. She’ll probably make a pet project out of him,” Hermione laughed. The pair went into the kitchen to take their seats.

Arthur was already sitting at the head of the table, with Draco on his left. He had been telling the Weasley patriarch about Slughorn’s dinner party. Arthur was very interested in the new book Miranda Goshawk was putting together.

Harry took a seat next to Draco, then Ginny next to him.

“When did you get here?” Harry asked her, giving a small hug.

“I’ve been upstairs,” she replied. “Harry, there’s something I need to talk to you about after supper. Privately.”

Though Harry thought it unusual for Ginny to want to speak to him in secrecy, he wasn’t particularly concerned.

Christmas supper was an amazing feast, as it always was in the Weasley household. Draco had forgotten to give Arthur the wine and excused himself for a moment to retrieve it. As soon as he was out of earshot, Harry was bombarded with comments and questions.

Putting his hands up to quiet them, Harry simply said, “Anything you want to say or ask me, you can do in front of Draco. I’ll not have you talking behind his back. I do realize that this is an odd situation, but please, it’s bad enough to be the subject of gossip in the papers.”

Draco returned to a silent kitchen and knew someone had been talking about him. He handed the bottle of wine to Arthur.

“I didn’t realize the family was so large. I would have brought two bottles.”

“You didn’t have to bring anything, Draco,” Arthur responded. He waved his wand and uncorked the bottle. “But thank you.”

Still standing up, Draco awkwardly glanced around at the sea of gingers watching him.

“Actually, I did bring something else,” Draco bowed his head slightly. “My humility.”

Harry put a hand on Draco’s arm and looked at him questioningly.

Continuing on, the former Death Eater addressed primarily Molly and Arthur. “And my apologies. My family has provided a fair amount of torment for yours. For most of which, there are not enough apologies. I have matured enough to understand the qualities that make a person worthy of respect and admiration. And I now strive for those. I know Ron and Ginny to be loyal and compassionate friends to Harry, and more accepting of me than I probably deserve. I have misjudged you all based on prejudice and I am humbled by your tolerance. And I ask your forgiveness for my past behavior.”

With that, Draco sat back down, unable to directly look at any of the faces now gaping at him. Never had any of them seen a Malfoy show remorse or regret, especially in regard to their family.

Molly cleared her throat. “Well, that was unexpected. Young man, you are not responsible for your family’s actions. But you are responsible for your own. I can’t imagine anyone among your family prostrating themselves the way you just did. And of course, you’re forgiven. I’m not naive enough to think my boys haven’t given you a run for your money over the years,” she smiled.

Harry smiled, too, at the thought of some of the pranks they had all pulled on one another in school.

Ron laughed. “Yeah, we got in a few.”

“I should say more than a few,” Draco protested.

They proceeded to reminisce over some of the more successful stunts, which led to discussion of George and Fred’s legendary antics.

The conversation twisted and turned in many directions over the course of supper, never waning for a moment with so many to keep it going. When the chat revolved around Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Hermione was reminded of her earlier discussion with Harry.

“I don’t recall,” Hermione addressed Fleur. “Did you include a binding ceremony to your vows?”

“No,” she answered. “I am part Veela. Our magic isn’t completely compatible that way.”

“Besides, with the attack by Greyback, and my wolfish tendencies, we didn’t want to chance it.” Bill kissed the back of Fleur’s hand. “That doesn’t mean we are not bound to each other forever, though.” Fluer demurely fluttered her eyelashes at the romantic gesture.

“Nobody does the binding ceremony anymore,” Molly groused. “It’s too easy to get a divorce nowadays if you ask me. Even our generation, only about half of couples opted for binding.”

“Excuse me, but what does the binding ceremony do?” Draco asked.

“When a couple’s magic is bound, it’s permanent. They are joined together forever. Even if they end up separating.”

“And why would anyone do that?” Draco questioned. “What’s the advantage?”

“It strengthens both witch and wizard. Sort of like filling in the weaknesses. You don’t exactly acquire each other’s skills, but rather, have the ability to borrow strength.”

“Oh, so if one is in a duel, for example, he can draw from his partner?”

“Yes, it can be helpful in illness as well. And that can be dangerous, because the other will become weaker. But it can be wonderful as well. You have a real sense of your partner, as if they are with you even if you’re apart.” Molly put her hand on Arthur’s. He looked at her adoringly. Draco was astounded by the apparent strong affection even after so many years of marriage. His own parents barely showed more than tolerance for one another.

Draco looked at Harry with eyes wide. “Do you think . . .”

Out of the side of his mouth, Harry whispered, “Not here.”

Ever the observer, Hermione picked up on the exchange between the boys. She remembered Harry’s odd question about binding by accident. Perhaps he had more of a reason for asking than mere curiosity.

“Molly, I’m curious, can a couple bind their magic themselves or do they need an officiant?”

“Well, I’ve heard stories of very powerful wizards performing it themselves, but it’s safer if done by a third party. That way, it’s more controlled.”

“But it’s possible?” Hermione reiterated.

“Yes.” Molly narrowed her eyes at Ron. “You two aren’t up to something, are you?”

Ron sat up straight. “What? Me? Us? No.”

“One more question,” Hermione interrupted. “Can it be done by accident?”

Molly blinked and this time narrowed her eyes at Hermione. “You’re full of questions. Why so curious?”

Hermione shrugged. “No reason,” she smiled. “You know me. I have to know everything.”

Almost everyone at the table laughed. Everyone except Harry.

“Oi, Ginny, where’s Dean?” Ron asked, shoving a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“Oh, he’s spending Christmas with his family,” she answered.

Ron frowned, “Didn’t you invite him here?” He thought after suggesting to Ginny that she invite him, that she would.

“Uh, no. We had a small disagreement. It was best that we spend it apart.”

“I’m sorry dear,” Molly sympathized.

“It’s fine mum,” Ginny mumbled. “We’ll see each other after the holiday. May I be excused?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Before getting up, Ginny leaned toward Harry. “Can I talk to you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He turned to Draco. “Will you be all right for a moment?”

At first a look of panic crossed Draco’s face, but then he nodded. Harry was just about to get up when a knock came at the door.

“Now who could that be?” Arthur asked. He quickly rose to his feet and made his way to the door. He came back into the kitchen with Dean in tow.

“Speak of the devil,” George snickered.

“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, clearly surprised.

Dean glanced around the room at all the eyes on him. “I came to ask . . . can we talk?”

“I was just about to have a word with Harry.”

“No, wait,” Dean blurted out. He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a box. Dropping down onto one knee, Ginny’s suitor took her hand in his.

Molly gasped loudly. George and Percy whispered and giggled to each other. Ron’s eyes went wide as he realized what was about to happen.

“Dean.”

“Ginny, please,” Dean smiled gently. “I’m sorry we argued earlier. I was being stupid. But spending Christmas apart wasn’t the answer. We shouldn’t spend any more time apart. I love you.” He opened the box, revealing a gold ring with three small diamonds. “Will you marry me?”

Ginny tugged on Deans hand and pulled him up to stand.

“Dean, stop. What are you doing?”

“No, Ginny, I want to marry you.”

The entire Weasley clan waited anxiously to see what Ginny would do.

“Well, what are you all staring at?” Ginny chided. “You, come with me,” she said to Dean.

She dragged him into the sitting room.

“What are you thinking?” Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m thinking we have a predicament, and this is the best way to solve it.”

“It’s not a predicament, it’s a life.”

Dean nodded. “Yes, I know. I’m proposing we raise it together.”

Neither Ginny nor Dean noticed that Harry had walked past on his way to the loo. He stopped and stood just outside the doorway when he caught a bit of their conversation.

“Dean, a baby is a huge responsibility. One that I’m not certain we’re ready for. And Harry has a right to know.”

Harry’s eyes went wide. Ginny was obviously pregnant.

“You don’t even know if it’s his. It’s more likely mine,” Dean reminded her. “And even if it is his, he can’t give you the life you’d want. What are you going to do, share parenting with him and Malfoy? He’s gay, Ginny. Is that the lifestyle you want your baby to be raised in?”

Ginny looked at him incredulously. “It will be fairly obvious who the father is when the baby is born. Haven’t you thought about that?” she asked, referring to his skin. “People will be expecting a child of yours to have darker skin.”

He shrugged. “I’m mixed. I could have fair children.”

“It's very unlikely.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. We’d be married by the time the baby was born and there would be nothing Harry could do about it. My name would be on the birth certificate.”

Furrowing her brow, Ginny observed, “You’ve actually given this some thought.”

“Yes,” he smiled. “Because I really do want to do this. Please say yes. It’ll be the best Christmas ever.”

Ginny bit her lip. She’d feel terribly guilty not telling Harry he could be a father. But perhaps Dean was right. Harry may not even want to be a father. Especially so young.

“I suppose it would be better all around. I mean, I’m fairly sure it’s yours anyway. But how will you feel raising another man’s child?”

“It’s mine.” Dean said with certainty.

She smiled up at him. “All right. Yes, I’ll marry you. But we can’t say anything about the baby yet.”

“Agreed.”

Harry leaned up against the wall. He slid down and sat abruptly on his bum. Beginning to feel a bit lightheaded, he crawled to the loo and locked the door behind him. He took a moment to gather himself together before standing and using the toilet. As he washed his hands he looked at his reflection. Describing himself as pale would have been a vast understatement. Splashing cold water on his face, Harry steeled himself to face everyone without letting on about Ginny and Dean’s conversation.

Walking into the kitchen to hugs and toasts, Harry feigned ignorance. “What’s going on?”

“She said yes!” Hermione squealed.

“Oh, congratulations.” Harry tried his best to sound excited for the couple. He shook Dean’s hand and hugged Ginny, then sat down next to Draco.

With a concerned look on his face, Draco questioned, “Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

“You know, I don’t really feel well. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Picking up on Harry’s condition with her motherly instincts, Molly offered a bed to Harry. “Would you like a potion to settle your stomach? Perhaps you had a bit too much treacle tart.”

“Thank you, but I think I’d rather just get back to Hogwarts.”

“Are you sure?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

“May I use your floo? I’ll contact Professor McGonagall and let her know we’re coming back tonight,” Draco informed Arthur.

Before he left, Harry approached Ginny. “We never did get a chance to talk. What did you want?”

She wasn’t able to look him in the eye as she answered.

“Oh, I just wanted to know how things were going between you and Draco. To make sure you’re happy.”

He swallowed, knowing she was lying. “Yeah, everything’s great. Congratulations again.” He kissed her cheek, then flooed to Hogwarts with Draco.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Draco asked for the third time in the past hour.

“Yes.”

“Something happened. Why won’t you tell me what?”

Harry looked into Draco’s eyes. He had a right to know, Harry supposed. If Harry was going to be a father, it may affect their relationship. Or worse, completely scare Draco off. But he didn’t like the fact that Ginny was trying to keep him in the dark about her situation. He couldn’t do the same thing to Draco.

Sighing, Harry sat down next to Draco on the bed.

“I overheard Ginny and Dean talking tonight. Draco, I found something out that I wasn’t supposed to know. If I tell you, you can’t say anything to anybody, including Pansy and Blaise.”

Draco nodded. “What was it?”

“Ginny is pregnant.”

Draco merely raised an eyebrow. “That would explain his urgency to marry.”

“There’s more.”

Not liking the look on Harry’s face, Draco looked instead at his own fingernails. His heart started to beat a bit faster as if he knew what Harry was going to say, but he couldn’t acknowledge it.

“It could be mine.”

Draco closed his eyes. He felt as though those four words just shattered his future. He knew Harry well enough to know that he would do the right thing. At any cost. Even his own happiness. And Draco’s.

“They have no intention of telling me. Even if it is mine.”

They sat in silence for a while, both their minds racing, not knowing which thought to express first.

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Draco was the first to speak.

“The dream. At least you know what the dream means now. And what Olivia Tifft saw.”

It had also occurred to Harry that this could be the physical manifestation of his dream. Though he hadn’t had that dream for some time, it was the one dream that hadn’t really changed much from the first time he had it. He still saw the same two children, in the same setting. Each time he saw _more_ of their surroundings, but it was still the same surroundings. The last time, he saw most of a white bird and a tall stone wall covered in ivy. But mainly, he saw the two children’s happy faces. He knew they were happy. And loved.

Interrupting Harry’s thoughts, Draco continued talking. “You won’t be able to let it go, will you?”

“Would you? If Pansy were going to have your child and instead raise it as . . . I don’t know, Theo’s, would you let it happen?”

“Theo is an oaf.”

“Beside the point.”

“No. I wouldn’t,” Draco admitted. He hugged Harry to him. “I’ll do anything I can to help you. But I think I’ll be more of a hindrance.”

Deep down, Harry knew he was probably right. His relationship with Draco could be used against him, if it came down to a fight. Harry hoped it wouldn’t come down to that.

hdhdhd

December 26 1998

Stretching and yawning, Harry reached his arm across the bed to find it empty. He sat up and looked around his room. Draco wasn’t there. He picked up his new pocket watch from his night table and opened it. Ten thirty-seven. Damn, he missed breakfast.

Harry got out of bed and padded out into the common room. An amused looked crossed his face as he saw Draco sitting on the floor with the two Fourth Years, eating a rather grand breakfast spread on a blanket. The Sixth Year student, Edward, or Edwin, or something similar Harry couldn’t recall, came bounding into the room with biscuits his mother had sent him. His parents were doing important research and couldn’t take the Christmas break, so he remained at Hogwarts.

“Edmund, are these the chocolate ones with pecans?” One of the Fourth Years, Euan, asked.

Edmund, that’s right. Harry was close, at least.

“What’s all this?” Harry smiled.

“Morning Harry,” Edmund said. “Draco went to the Hall and brought back breakfast for us all.”

Raising his eyebrows, Harry smirked. “He did?” He sat down across from the others and picked up a piece of fruit.

“There was nobody else down there. Everyone slept in and I didn’t want to eat alone,” Draco replied coolly, making light of the gesture.

The other Fourth Year, a girl sat with her eyes glued to the floor as she nibbled a crumpet. She was blushing furiously. Euan nudged her.

“What’s wrong with you?” he snickered.

“Nothing.”

They ate for a few minutes before Draco noticed the girl’s gaze travel subtly to Harry’s crotch.

He grinned, trying very hard to suppress the urge to say something that was sure to further embarrass Cicely, as Draco recalled her name to be. But of course, he couldn’t be completely gentlemanly about it.

Draco cleared his throat. “Feeling a bit of a draft Harry?”

Harry frowned. “Huh?”

“I said, it’s a bit drafty in here, don’t you think? Perhaps you ought to cover up.” His eyes traveled down to Harry’s pants, which had gaped open a bit when he sat cross legged on the floor. Right in front of the poor blushing girl.

“Oh, shit.” Harry quickly covered himself with his hands and got up to put on some clothing. He’d been so used to parading around his room in just his pants that he hadn’t even thought to put on pajamas before going into the common room.

Euan and Edmund burst out laughing. Neither had taken any notice of Harry’s pants. But obviously, Cicely had.

Draco leaned closer to the mortified Fourth Year. “It’s all right. I couldn’t help looking either. It was rather on display, wasn’t it?”

Cicely giggled.

Harry returned, properly dressed in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, mumbling his apologies.

The four Gryffindors and the Slytherin finished eating their breakfast while making small talk about plans for the rest of the holiday. McGonagall had arranged an outing to Hogsmeade for the handful of students, just to get out of the castle for a while. Some of the students planned to go sledding later. There were really no hills to speak of on the grounds but a few of the Seventh Year Hufflepuffs conjured a decent sized ramp which they covered in snow.

“Do you want to go Draco? Have you ever been sledding?”

“Of course I’ve been sledding. I was a child once, you know.”

Harry chuckled. “Sorry. I just can’t see your parents allowing you to join in on such . . . childish fun.”

“They didn’t often,” Draco admitted sadly. “Not that my life was so bad. I was allowed to practice magic, which I really wasn’t supposed to. I enjoyed that.”

“I’ve only gone sledding once or twice. Dudley would never let me go with him and his friends. Ron took me, though.”

Draco shook his head. “No, we have an appointment.”

Frowning Harry asked what sort of appointment.

“We’re going to St. Mungo’s.”

“Why?” Harry couldn’t fathom.

“To find out if we accidentally bound our magic, of course. Were you not listening to the conversation last night at supper? And about my Mark.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said. “I guess I forgot all about that. What with the other bit of news.”

“You’re going to put that on hold for now,” Draco instructed. “That will keep until Ginny and Dean get back. They’re not going to marry before the New Year.”

hdhdhd

Healer Cummins sat at his desk, leafing through his notes, scowling. He picked up a file of parchment and looked at it once more. Harry felt the Healer had already looked through all the notes and test results so many times, he should have had them memorized.

“Well, is our magic joined?” Harry questioned, getting a bit irate.

“Oh, yeah,” The Healer told him dismissively. “You boys are joined for life. I’ve never seen such a strong bond.” Healer Cummins paused and laughed. “How did you manage that?”

“That’s what we came here for,” Draco scoffed. “So you could tell _us_!.”

Cummins lifted a parchment, read a passage, then looked at the two in front of him. “What were you doing when it happened? It doesn’t say here. Were you trying to perform a marriage ceremony yourselves?”

Both Harry and Draco blushed.

“Uh, we, uh, were . . .” Harry began.

“In bed,” Draco finished quickly.

“Oh. So this isn’t quite the accident it seems,” Cummins brought his hand to his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully. “I just assumed . . . well, I didn’t realize you were_ together_. I thought perhaps it was a spell gone awry.”

“Guess you don’t read the papers,” Draco muttered under his breath. He was losing faith in the Healer’s ability to sort out their situation.

“No sir. At least, we didn’t knowingly cast any spells,” Harry told him.

“Forgive my intrusion, but did one of you try to do a binding ceremony or wish for one or something similar?”

“No,” Draco answered. “I didn’t even know what it was until yesterday. Harry?”

“Uh,” Harry hesitated. “I may have thought something along those lines,” he said awkwardly.

“What exactly?” the Healer wanted to know.

Pushing through his embarrassment, Harry answered, “I felt like I’ve never felt before. We were, you know, in the middle of it. And I felt so much emotion and I remember thinking that I wanted to feel that way for the rest of my life. I just let go and I could feel magic all around us. It was amazing, until the pain.”

“Pain?” the Healer looked through the notes again, then looked at Draco. “Yes, you said you felt terrible pain, then later realized the Mark was gone.”

“No, I felt it too,” Harry said. “I think I may have forgotten to mention that.”

Cummins snorted. “Anything else you _forgot _to mention?”

Blushing once again, Harry replied in a quiet voice, “I don’t know if it’s important but we both said we loved each other.”

Draco rolled his eyes and closed them, utterly humiliated by the whole experience.

Healer Cummins got up and walked around his desk. Taking out his wand, he whispered a few words and poked the wand in Harry’s direction. He did the same with Draco.

“Mr. Potter, I believe you caused the binding. And it was very dangerous. You’re lucky Mr. Malfoy is as powerful as he is. It could have turned out badly otherwise. I’m still puzzled by the Mark’s disappearance, though.” The Healer reached out to Draco’s arm.

“Yours is the first that’s ever been completely eradicated. I can only guess that when your magic came together, yours,” he pointed to Harry, “must have sought out the dark magic in the Mark and drove it out.”

“I did? Are you sure?”

“Mr. Potter, you defeated the most powerful dark wizard of all. Do you doubt that you have the ability to vanquish the small amount of dark magic held in Mr. Malfoy’s Dark Mark?”

“But where did it go?” Draco asked.

“Any number of things may have happened to it,” Cummins said. “It could have transferred to a nearby object. Though it’s unlikely. It could have simply dispersed with no wizard to carry it.”

“So, now what?” Harry asked.

Cummins cocked his head and furrowed his brow.

“I mean about us being bound.”

The Healer smiled. “Enjoy it. There’s nothing to be done. It’s permanent.” He looked back and forth between the boys. “In my forty-six years as a healer, I’ve never come across a case of spontaneous binding. Heard of one or two from the past.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said to Draco.

“You’re sorry?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“Don’t blame him, son. You two must have had a very strong connection to begin with. Your magic responded and completed the bond. I think the pain was only the resistance of the residual dark magic. It’s not his fault.”

“Blame? Fault? And you’re sorry? No, _I’m_ sorry. I’m sorry I’m the only one that thought this was a wonderful thing.” Draco swiftly got up and bolted for the door. Before Harry could even stand up Draco was gone, disapparated as soon as the wards around the hospital would allow it.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered. “Oh, sorry.”

“Was there something else?” The Healer asked when Harry remained seated.

“Do you like being a Healer?”

Somewhat surprised by Harry’s question, he answered, “Yes, I’ve been one most of my life. Are you interested?”

“Maybe. I’m not as good at Potions as some, though.”

“That’s only one aspect. A lot of diagnosis requires excellent spell skills. And frankly, we could use someone as familiar with the Dark Arts as you. Most of them want to be Aurors. Healing injuries caused by Dark Magic can be tricky.”

“I thought I wanted to be an Auror. But now I’m not so sure,” Harry told him.

“Well, the best way to decide if you want to work in the hospital is to come and observe, do some volunteer work. Then, if you think you’d like to, you can join the apprentice program.”

Harry smiled. “Good idea. Perhaps I’ll do that.”

“Just see the Welcome Witch about a schedule. She’d be happy to help you,” Cummins said, pleased at the thought that Harry Potter may one day join his staff.

“One more thing,” Harry paused. “Is it possible to determine a baby’s paternity before its born?”

“Yes. And no,” the Healer frowned, wondering why Harry would ask such a question out of the blue. “We can narrow it down, rule out certain men based on magical signature. But, if it came down to, brothers, say, it wouldn’t be possible to determine absolutely until birth. I would ask why you want to know, but I suppose it’s none of my business.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“I have a question for you,” Cummins smiled. “Why the hell are you still here? You should go find him.”

“I will. Thank you, sir.”

Harry made his way back to the castle as quickly as possible, looking in all their usual spots when he returned. Draco was not in the Potions room, or the Astronomy Tower. Nor was he in either of their Houses. Zabini said he hadn’t seen him, but sometimes when Draco got depressed, he went to The Three Broomsticks to drink. Harry thought that would be his last resort, if Draco couldn’t be found in the castle. He just had a feeling he was there somewhere.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, Harry watched the fire. Suddenly, he had an idea. If his and Draco’s magic were connected, perhaps he could feel where Draco was. He closed his eyes and sat very still, concentrating on his lover. After a while, he opened his eyes. He knew Draco was out in the courtyard again. He didn’t see him in his mind or hear anything in particular. He could simply feel it.

Harry grabbed a blanket and hurried out of the tower, running all the way past the classrooms to the door to the courtyard. It was dark out, as the sun had been setting so early these days. But he could make out a shock of white blond hair by one of the trees. Harry walked over to Draco and draped the blanket on him. The boy was freezing.

“I guess I have to find a new hiding place,” Draco sniffed.

“I don’t want you to hide from me.” Harry snickered, “I don’t know if you’d be able to anyway.”

Draco turned to face him. “What’s that mean?”

“I found you through your magic,” the brunet grinned. “All I had to do was think of you and concentrate. And suddenly, I knew exactly where you were.”

“Great, so what you’re saying is there’s no escaping you?” Draco asked sarcastically.

“Apparently not,” Harry teased. “Draco, I think you misunderstood back in the Healer’s office. I’m not sorry about being joined with you. I’m sorry for dragging you into what is sure to be high drama, possibly, very public drama.”

Draco sniggered. “Public drama, I can handle. Or have you forgotten all about my family’s trials?”

“Come back inside. Supper will be soon,” Harry said. “We can hang out with Blaise if you’d like. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our break and not worry about all this stuff until the new term begins.”

Turning to Harry, Draco nodded. Harry smiled at the way his nose and cheeks had become pink form the cold. He kissed each cheek and the tip of his nose to warm them slightly, then kissed his lips. They were cold as well, and Harry had more fun warming them up.


	23. Dear Diary

December 29 1998

Since things had calmed down a bit, Harry, Draco and Blaise spent a few days lounging about the castle. To be honest, it was becoming boring. Harry was anxious to talk to Ginny and needed something to take his mind off her condition and all the ‘what ifs’.

Reaching under his bed, Harry took out the journal and quill. Draco had gone with Blaise to get some Quidditch practice in, leaving Harry with some time to himself. He smiled to himself as he read the one and only entry. Then added the second.

_December 29, 1998_

_ I am in love. For the first time, truly and deeply in love. And Draco loves me back._

Harry waited and watched the page. Nothing changed. Well, it seemed the journal believed him or rather, Harry truly believed what he wrote.

_Draco and I somehow managed to bind our magic together. I didn’t know I could do that. It has left me feeling more powerful than ever. I am again rethinking my career choices. Because I made Draco’s Mark disappear, perhaps I should become an Auror after all. Not because people think I should, but because I may be able to really help rid the wizarding world of Dark Magic._

He put the quill down and re-read what he wrote. So far, the journal had accepted Harry’s words at face value. It was true, he was confident he would make a decent Auror before. That’s what everybody told him. He was tired of chasing and vanquishing evil. And now that all that had ended, he wasn’t certain he wanted to go back to it. But things were different now. Instead of simply killing or incarcerating Death Eaters, there was a chance he could turn them away from dark magic, get rid of the dark magic in them. So, perhaps being an Auror would make sense. The difference would be a conscious decision on his part, not a blind following of advice. Satisfied that he was being honest with himself in regard to his career path, Harry moved on to more difficult subjects.

_ I had the dream about the two children again._

The word _the_ disappeared. He wrote in _my_. Harry snickered. He wasn’t going to fool the journal on that one. Even he was beginning to believe they were his children. Perhaps even hoping.

_I want to see more of the dream. I want to know who the mother is._

Before Harry could write any more, the words _want to_ disappeared.

“No, I don’t,” Harry said to the book. The m from the word _mother_ vanished.

Harry frowned. “What? What does that mean? _ I know who the other is_. Other what?”

To prove his point, he wrote again.

_Ginny is not carrying my baby._

Quill poised to counteract the journal, he watched the page. To his confusion, nothing changed.

“That doesn’t make any sense. You tell me I know who the mother is. But it’s not Ginny. Or at least, in my heart, I don’t think it’s Ginny.” Harry sighed and shook his head. He liked the journal better when it simply accepted what he wrote rather than giving him cryptic messages. Harry began to write again as if it were any other journal. A diary to keep track of his thoughts and significant events.

_I’m going to talk to Ginny as soon as she gets back to school. In the meantime, I still want to figure out more of my dream. Each time, I see a bit more of the surroundings. The last one featured a high wall covered in ivy and part of a wrought iron fence. Some purple flowers grew alongside the fence. And I finally have figured out that the white animal is some sort of bird. But that is all._

Harry paused to think what else he might like to write about, when a word appeared on the page.

_more_

It wasn’t the first time the journal had encouraged him to keep writing. Biting his lip, he cursed the journal in his head. Of course there was more. More that Harry didn’t want to admit to.

“You’re not going to leave me alone until I write it, are you?” he spoke to the journal. He briefly wondered if it was a sign of madness to talk to inanimate objects.

_I thought I saw a woman faintly in the background. A blonde woman holding her arms out to the children._

_ I thought _disappeared.

“Fine, yes I saw her. But that doesn’t mean she’s the children’s mother.” Harry stuck his tongue out at the book.

_I don’t know how this could happen. I want a life with Draco._

Harry’s hand shook as it left the parchment. Would the diary leave his words as truth? Is that truly what Harry wanted or did he want the family of his dream? He loved Draco, but he was also beginning to fall for those adorable children.

hdhdhd

December 30 1998

“Everyone will be coming back to school soon,” Draco pointed out the obvious.

Harry simply nodded.

The pair sat on Harry’s bed after supper. They were bored. It was too early to go to bed, yet too late to make plans.

“Did you get all your work finished?” the blond asked.

Harry nodded again.

“Do you want a licorice wand?”

“No, thanks.”

“What did you do yesterday while I was out with Blaise?” Draco finally asked a question Harry couldn’t answer with yes or no.

Harry’s eyes instinctively traveled to the stand beside his bed. He was afraid if he told Draco he’d written in the diary again, the Slytherin would want to know what he wrote about. But he didn’t want to lie.

“I, uh, wrote a bit in the journal you gave me.”

“Oh. Did you find it useful?”

Harry was pleased by the vague question. “Sort of. I’m still getting used to it. But I do like it.”

“Good.” Draco sighed. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Shrugging, Harry replied, “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

Draco wiggled his eyebrows and leaned over to lick Harry’s neck and give his ear a little nibble. When the Gryffindor turned his head, his mouth was met with Draco’s warm lips. How he loved those lips. Harry opened his mouth and ran his tongue along his partner’s plump bottom lip. The Slytherin reciprocated with his own tongue and the two leisurely kissed on Harry’s bed.

Gently pushing Harry back onto the fluffy mattress, Draco continued to smooch his lover as he lay on top of him. He felt Harry’s hand in his hair. Although there were places more erotic to be touched, Draco enjoyed the intimate way Harry’s fingers twined around the baby fine strands. The blond wanted to do the same, but instead began to unbutton Harry’s shirt. Halfway down, he noticed that Harry was kissing him with less enthusiasm.

“Is something wrong?” Draco asked as he pulled back.

“No,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Are you getting bored with me already?” Draco teased with a smirk.

Harry remained serious. “Of course not. I . . .”

Draco sat back on his heels, straddling Harry’s left leg. “Am I not desirable tonight,” he pouted.

Sitting up, the brunet cupped his lover’s face. “You are most desirable.”

“Then what’s wrong? We haven’t had sex since Christmas.”

Harry looked down and away. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you again.”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

Draco sighed. “Well, I guess I don’t for sure, but the Healer said it was because of the dark magic. And that’s gone now, so . . .”

“But you said it felt like my magic was trying to take over yours–”

“Harry, your magic has made me feel more powerful and confident than ever.” He glanced down at his forearm. “That faint buzz of dark magic is gone. Your magic has made me whole again.”

Harry searched Draco’s face and found nothing but sincerity.

“Okay,” he smiled. “But I want to bottom.”

Feeling his cock stir at Harry’s confession, Draco leaned forward and captured Harry’s mouth with his own. “Anything you want,” he breathed, and resumed unbuttoning Harry’s shirt.

They continued to disrobe, breaking contact only when necessary, until both were nude. Draco whispered the cleansing spell and Accioed the bottle of lube.

Looking down on the Gryffindor, Draco said, “How did we get here?” He chuckled softly.

Harry replied, “I don’t know, but I don’t think I can live without you.”

“You won’t have to. No matter what happens.” 

“You promise?”

Draco stroked Harry’s hair. “I promise.”

“Even if–”

“Shh.” Draco placed a finger gently over Harry’s mouth. “I said I promise.” He meant his promise, but it wasn’t himself he was worried about. He didn’t ask the same of Harry. If it came down to it, Draco didn’t want Harry to have to break his promise. The Slytherin decided he would have Harry as long as Harry would have him. Hopefully, it would be a very long time.

In the meantime, Draco had an eager partner waiting beneath him.

Harry groaned as Draco’s cock pushed its way in. Feeling Draco inside him again had been occupying most of Harry’s thoughts for the past several days. True, he had been worried about hurting Draco physically. But he was also afraid of what would happen to their relationship if Ginny was indeed carrying his child. And he had been subconsciously holding back.

At the moment, however, all of that melted away as he moved in sync with the man he loved. He could feel, through their joined magic, all the love Draco was feeling. The emotions were nearly overwhelming, and Harry knew that if he chose, he would never be truly alone again.

“Harry,” Draco whispered. In one fluid movement, he leaned back and pulled Harry up onto his lap without losing their connection. With his hands on Harry’s hips, he guided his lover up and down his length. “You feel incredible.” He moved his hand to the neglected cock between them. Harry’s subsequent moans urged his hand to stroke faster. Again, Draco felt Harry’s hands in his hair. The Gryffindor couldn’t seem to keep his fingers out of the white-blond tresses. While Harry raised and lowered himself, Draco’s other hand caressed his chest. Impulsively, Draco licked at the nipple bouncing up and down in front of him. Harry let out a mewl, which encouraged the blond to suck. He flicked it with his tongue several times, reveling in the sounds Harry made.

“Bite it,” Harry said breathlessly. “Oh, Draco, faster, faster. I’m gonna cum.”

Happily complying, Draco’s hand squeezed just a bit harder as it stroked Harry’s shaft, while his teeth nibbled at his nipple.

The grip on Draco’s hair tightened almost painfully and he knew Harry was about to release. Suddenly, his hand was covered in sticky cum and Harry was crying out in ecstasy. 

Not being able to hold out any longer himself, Draco lifted Harry off his lap and tossed him back on the bed. He raised Harry’s legs to rest on his shoulders and swiftly re-entered him, thrusting quickly in and out. As he neared his climax, the blond moaned Harry’s name over and over. In a matter of minutes, Draco was experiencing his own rapture.

The pair lay, foreheads together, panting into one another’s mouths. Eventually, Draco extricated himself and lay down next to Harry.

“Wow,” Draco grinned. He turned to look at Harry. “Are you all right?”

“Better than all right,” Harry answered. “That was . . .” He searched for a word to describe the feeling.

“Deep,” Draco finished. 

Harry gave him an odd expression. “Deep? Yeah, I guess,” he laughed.

“No. Deep, as in meaningful.”

“Oh. Then yes,” Harry flushed, feeling foolish for misunderstanding.

“It was better than the first time,” Draco graciously glossed over Harry’s faux pas. “Better than _any_ time.”

“You think it’s because of the bond?” Harry questioned.

Nodding, Draco answered, “Yeah, you felt it, didn’t you?”

Harry merely smiled.

After a moment or two of silence, Draco began to giggle.

“What?” Harry prodded.

“I was just thinking, now I know why the Weasleys had so many children. They probably went at it like jackrabbits.”

Harry laughed along with him. “I really didn’t need that image in my mind. But I’m going to have to recommend the binding ceremony to Ron and Mione.”

“Really? And what exactly are you going to tell them?”

“Uh, well, maybe I’ll just tell Mione,” Harry said. “I don’t think Ron is ready for that sort of information.”

“Do you suppose he ever will be?”

Harry nodded. “He’s handled this, us, fairly well so far. I think eventually he’ll come to accept it. You and he may even become friends,” Harry grinned.

“You may be surprised to hear that I’d like that.”

Expecting Draco to balk at the idea of him and Ron being more than tolerant of one another, Harry _was_ surprised. “You would?”

“Yes. Granger as well. I feel a bit more confident on that front,” Draco told him. “I think maybe I scared Weasley–Ron, off at that impromptu get together a couple of weeks ago. I vaguely remember putting my arm around him,” Draco laughed.

“More like draped yourself over him,” Harry said. “You had too much to drink that night.”

“Why Harry, are you jealous?”

“As handsome as you are, Ron is the one bloke I _know_ I can trust around you.”

Turning serious for a moment, Draco questioned. “Are you saying there are blokes you don’t trust around me?”

“No.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Girls?”

“I trust _you_.”

Putting two and two together, Draco responded, “But you don’t trust Pansy.”

“I’ve seen the way she still looks at you,” Harry confessed.

Draco pulled Harry’s chin gently, forcing him to look into Draco’s eyes. “Well, I haven’t noticed. I’m too busy looking at you.” He kissed Harry and snuggled closer, nudging his way under Harry’s arm.

Harry smiled to himself. He and Draco had a lot to get past in order for their relationship to work. But as he began to drift off to sleep, he thought it was possible. And perhaps he could find a way to have Draco _and_ the children in his dreams.


	24. Heart 2 Heart

December 31 1998

Ron opened the door to his dormitory and placed his small trunk at the foot of his bed. When he turned around, he was greeted by the sight of Harry in bed sleeping, one arm propped up under his head. The other was resting on a sleeping blond wrapped around him.

The ginger stood watching for a moment. Harry looked well rested and peaceful. Draco reminded him of a dog curled up by his master’s side. That thought made him smile.

The smile quickly vanished, though. While Ron was doing his best to be supportive, in his heart, he still didn’t trust the Slytherin. And he thought for certain, by now the git would have done something to piss Harry off. And Harry would have broken things off and moved on. There had to be plenty of other bent wizards out there. But if the way Harry had his arm so lovingly draped over Draco was any indication, the two were still very much an item, and Ron would just have to get over it.

As Ron stood there, grey eyes opened, expressing panic for only a second. Draco waited for Ron to speak first.

“Morning.”

The corner of Draco’s mouth raised a bit. Better than he’d hoped.

“Morning,” he returned.

Harry stirred at the sound of Draco’s voice. The arm behind his head came down and wrapped around his lover, squeezing him in a yawn and stretch.

“Morning, luv,” he smiled.

“I was actually talking to Ron,” Draco smirked.

Gasping slightly and pulling away from Draco, Harry turned to see Ron standing there uncomfortably, giving a small close-mouthed smile and a wave.

“Oi, Ron. When did you get back?” Harry asked as he reached over to the side table for his glasses.

“Just now. Hermione and I apparated back early instead of taking the Express. They’re letting the Seventh and Eighth Years do that this year,” Ron informed him.

“Brilliant,” Harry said. He looked at Draco. “Um, we, um, we’ve been sort of sleeping here over the break.”

“It’s all right, Harry,” Ron offered. “I would have had Mione with me over the break, ‘cept Mum wasn’t having any of that. Not after Ginny.”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah, you weren’t there. Turns out there was a reason for Dean’s sudden proposal. She’s going to have a baby. Spent too much time in the loo,” Ron snorted. “And Mum got suspicious when she wasn’t eating well. Weasleys always eat well.”

“Wow,” Harry tried to feign surprise.

“Yeah, so Mum’s planning a January wedding.”

“January?” Harry panicked. “So soon?”

“She’s already two and a half months along. She doesn’t want to be showing in her dress. Even though everyone will be able to do the math once the brat is born.”

“Ron,” Harry chided. 

“She’s getting married before me and Mione. That’s not right. She’s having a baby before us.”

“I didn’t know it was a race,” Harry said.

“It’s not,” Ron grumbled. “But I was gonna ask Mione to marry me and now I can’t.”

Harry sat up. “You are. That’s great. When?”

“I was gonna do it Valentine’s Day, but now it’ll look like I’m just trying to keep up with Ginny. Everything is going to be all Ginny, all the time. I want Mione to have all the attention she deserves for her wedding.”

Harry grinned. “It’s not just her wedding.”

“Okay, is it so terrible that I might want some attention too? You try growing up with six other siblings.”

Draco stretched and threw the covers off. “Well, wedding talk is my cue to leave. We missed breakfast again. I’ll see you at lunch.” He pulled a t-shirt over his head and left in his pajamas.

When Draco was gone, Harry apologized.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”

“So, I guess things are going pretty well?”

“Yes. Wait until you hear what happened.”

A look of panic crossed Ron’s face. “Is it something I actually want to hear about?”

“Yes.” Harry nibbled on his thumb nail. “Well, probably not the details. But Draco doesn’t have the Mark anymore.”

“Really? I heard none of the Healers could make them go away completely.”

“A Healer didn’t do it. I did,” Harry grinned.

“What? How?”

“Uh, well, that’s the tricky part. I’m not sure. And the head Healer at St. Mungo’s didn’t know either. But he said it was probably when we–” Harry stopped himself.

“When you what?” Ron urged him to continue.

Biting his lip, Harry did. “Remember all the talk at Christmas about binding magic?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered, his face expressionless.

“Draco and I, sort of, accidentally . . . bound ourselves together.” Harry winced in anticipation of Ron’s reaction. It was warranted.

“What! You fucking what? You and Malfoy. You’re like fucking married or something? Harry, you can’t undo that. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I told you. It was an accident.”

“Bollocks. I don’t know much about binding, but I know that you can’t do it by accident.” Ron crossed his arms over his chest, thinking Harry was lying to him.

“No, Ron, it can happen that way. It just usually doesn’t. The Healer we saw told us. Anyway, that isn’t the part that’s exciting. It drove out the dark magic in Draco’s Mark and the tattoo disappeared.”

“So you’re saying he’s all _good_ now?” Ron huffed. “He was a git before he got the Mark, if you’ll remember.”

“Are you purposely missing my point? Or are you just thick?” Harry grumbled.

“What’s your point, then?”

“That if the Healer can figure out how I did it, maybe I can drive the dark magic out of the remaining Death Eaters.”

“Like, rehabilitate them?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. It would be worth a shot. Otherwise, they’ll all waste away in Azkaban.”

“Let ‘em waste, I say. I don’t think they’re worth your effort,” Ron said. “But,” he continued. “It could be useful for driving the dark magic out of objects. Stuff that’s locked away because it’s dangerous. Stuff that could be worth more than some shriveled up old Death Eaters.”

Harry couldn’t disagree. “I hadn’t thought of that. I was only thinking about people. The Ministry would be very interested in saving dark objects. Draco’s father had some things in his possession that were very dangerous.” Harry noticed Ron gritting his teeth. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Ron, something’s obviously bothering you.”

Ron hesitated to speak his mind. “It’s stupid.” Harry said nothing, waiting. “I’ve been in love with Hermione forever. And I know we’ve only been officially together for the past six months. But every time I turn around, there’s somebody else hooking up. Ginny’s having some sort of shot gun wedding and apparently even you and Malfoy are all but married.”

“What’s your point?”

“I don’t know. I feel like it lessens what Mione and I have by everyone else jumping into commitments they’re not ready to make.”

“I didn’t mean to bind myself to Draco,” Harry told him. “But now that I have . . . I am ready for the commitment.”

Ron remained quiet.

“Ron, I’m in love with him. Now, I know you’re not thrilled about it, but he loves me too. You know that tie pin? The one from the second-hand shop. I gave it to him for Christmas. I never expected it to open for him, but it did. And, well, he said he loves me. I know you don’t understand, and it seems like we’re moving incredibly fast. But if I really think about it, I come to the conclusion that Draco and I have always been attracted to one another. We could never leave each other alone. If you truly hate someone, you avoid them, ignore them. I think our repressed sexual tension came out as hate, because that was the only acceptable form for me at the time.”

“You about finished?” Ron smirked.

“I guess.”

Ron chuckled. “It wasn’t repressed sexual tension for me. I really hated the prat. If what you said is true, it actually makes me feel better about things. I’m not saying I trust him completely or anything. But I suppose your theory sort of makes sense.”

“Even you said you thought I had a thing for him Sixth Year.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Ron laughed. “What did Mione think of your idea?”

“I didn’t tell her. Actually, I didn’t tell her about the magic binding yet,” Harry said.

Ron grinned and sat up a bit straighter. “You mean you told me before Mione?”

“I do that occasionally. When she doesn’t figure things out first,” Harry smiled. His smile soon faded. “Ron, there are a couple of other things I need to tell you. Things I don’t intend to tell Hermione at all.”

“Are you sure you want to tell me then?”

“I _have_ to tell you,” Harry said ominously. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “I knew about Ginny before you told me. I overheard her and Dean talking on Christmas.” He looked Ron in the eye. “It could be mine.”

“Fucking Hell. Are you kidding me?”

“I wish I was. She’s lying about how far along she is. She had no intention of telling me,” Harry explained.

“Are you just going to let Dean marry her and claim your kid?” Ron stood, enraged by Ginny’s deception and Harry’s apparent lack of concern.

“No. Sit down Ron,” Harry suggested. “If it is mine, of course I’ll take responsibility. But I don’t want to cause an unwarranted fuss. If it’s not mine and I go making claims, it will only hurt and embarrass Ginny.”

“She should be embarrassed. Bedding two boys at the same time.”

“It wasn’t like that. She didn’t start seeing Dean until after we broke up, you know that. Granted, it wasn’t very long after. And the timing is a bit iffy.”

“So what are you going to do?” Ron asked.

“The Healer I spoke to said we may be able to narrow down which one of us is the father before the baby is born. There’s nothing to do until I know for sure. The trick will be getting Ginny to agree.”

“I’ll drag her to St. Mungo’s myself if I have to,” Ron said.

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary. I’m going to talk to her as soon as she gets back.” Harry bit his lip. “It would be nice to have someone on my side.”

“Always, mate. Don’t you know that by now?”

Harry smiled. He did know. It was nice to hear. “There’s one other thing.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this one any better,” Ron guessed.

“I’ve been having dreams. Some that have come true. At least partially.”

“Yeah, you told me about those.”

“Not this one. It’s about you. And it’s not good.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know why or what the circumstances are, but I see Draco pointing his wand at you . . . and then casting the killing curse.”

Ron gasped and frowned at the same time. “What possible circumstances other than he’s trying to kill me could there be? Does he kill me?” he asked quietly.

“It appears so. I hear Hermione somewhere shouting your name. I know what it sounds like, but I can’t believe that he would do that to anyone, including you. He couldn’t kill Dumbledore knowing that his own life was on the line. There has to be another explanation.”

“Then why tell me?” Ron questioned. “I won’t be able to turn my back to him now. If you really believe it won’t happen, why tell me?”

“I love him. But I love you too. You’re my best friend. You need to protect yourself. If it comes down to it, Ron, you do what you need to do,” Harry said sadly. The thought of losing either of them was devastating.

“And what about Malfoy? Does he know about the dream?”

Harry shook his head. “I haven’t told him. I guess I’m hoping this dream changes the way the others have.”

Ron got up and walked to Harry’s bad and sat down. “Thanks, mate. That probably wasn’t easy for you to tell me. I’ll be on my guard.”

Just remembering something from the dream, Harry gasped. “I think you were by a kitchen window.”

Ron snickered. “That shouldn’t be hard for me to avoid. I don’t know how to cook.”

Harry joined in laughing. Deep down, though, he was worried for both his friend and his lover.

hdhdhd

Walking into his dormitory, Draco stopped short when he spotted Pansy sitting on his bed.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Is that any way to greet me?” Pansy smiled. “Didn’t you miss me after you left the Manor?”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Draco smirked.

“With your boy toy?” Pansy leaned back on her elbows, pushing her chest out slightly. 

“Potter is most definitely _not_ a boy,” Draco said, rooting through his trunk for clean clothes.

“I’m most definitely not a boy either,” she grinned. “When was the last time you had the company of a real woman?”

“What’s the matter Pans? No one to fuck over the holidays?”

“No,” she pouted. She patted the bed beside her. He shook his head. “Aw, come on, Dra. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to,” Pansy grinned.

“Pans, I’m not going to have sex with you because you’re bored.”

“You’ve never turned me down before,” she pointed out.

“I’ve never been in love before,” he said, before he could censor himself. Shit.

“Ouch,” Pansy feigned emotional injury. “So, you think you’re in love with him, then?”

“No. I am in love with him. And I’m not going to cheat on him. Not even with you.”

“Funny how you didn’t consider it cheating on any of the other boys.”

“They were different. I wasn’t serious about any of them. Any of them,” he laughed. “It was only two boys.”

“And what about the girls? There were more than two, that’s for sure. And you didn’t seem to consider it cheating on them either.”

Draco put his hands on his hips. He didn’t want to get drawn into one of Pansy’s philosophical debates. She had a way of turning the tables and getting away from the original point. But he got sucked into defending himself anyway.

“Technically, I only cheated on one girl. I had broken things off with the others before hopping into bed with you. And again, I wasn’t in love.”

“Oh. So if you weren’t in love with Potter, you’d cheat on him?”

“No. I didn’t say that.” There it was. The twisting of his words. “Pansy, I’m not having this conversation with you and I’m not sleeping with you. Go see if Nott’s back yet.” He resumed gathering a fresh pair of trousers and jumper.

Pansy remained seated on Draco’s bed. He was annoyed that she wouldn’t leave and tried to ignore her. He was about to go take a shower when he noticed her shoulders shaking, just slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Fuck off,” she said quietly. “Like you give a rat’s arse.”

Sitting down beside her, he took her hand. “I do. You can’t possibly be upset because I turned you down. You could get any number of boys to help you out there.” He tried to make light of the situation, but he could see there was more to it.

“Is it because I said I love Harry? I thought we were past all that.”

“Well, sure, _you_ are. You aren’t the slut of Slytherin. You’ve hooked up with the ultimate good guy. By the way, I told you you’d end up with a man.”

“But you left me, not the other way around like you predicted.”

Pansy waved her hand at him. “Details.”

“Then what’s really bothering you? Tell me. I may not want to shag you anymore, but I’m still your friend,” Draco smiled.

“My only friend. My only _real_ friend.” She sighed. “Did you know at the last wand party, Theo and I were the only ones to show?”

Draco laughed. “You’re kidding. That’s sort of ironic.”

“Yes, well, that’s not the word I would use. Anyway, it occurred to me that over the course of the game, people that got paired up were staying together. It was as if the game was playing matchmaker rather than randomly pairing up.”

Draco tried to remember who had gotten together as a result of the game. The game certainly seemed to want him and Harry together. He recalled the time he and Harry heard Luna and Longbottom in one of the alcoves. He’d seen the two of them walking about the castle hand in hand since.

“And what’s your point? It didn’t happen for you? I’m sure there are others that aren’t dating anyone,” Draco said.

“You’re making it sound so petty,” Pansy complained. “Is it too much to ask for some of what you have? Am I doomed to be someone’s mistress my whole life?”

“I thought you liked your freedom and independence.”

“I do. But I still might like to feel . . .”

“Loved?” Draco suggested.

Pansy looked away. “I know, it’s ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t,” he assured her. “But what is ridiculous, is to think you have to find that right now, here, at Hogwarts. You’re young, you’re pretty and smart when you want to be. Stop giving yourself away, especially to this lot. Including me.”

Pansy looked him in the eye. “You’re the only one that ever made me feel, you know.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“I do love you, Pans. As my friend. And that’s no small thing.” He put his arm around her. Since saying those words to Harry, he felt more comfortable expressing his feelings for Pansy. “I shouldn’t ever have taken advantage of you. I didn’t realize how it would make you feel about yourself.”

“It was my own fault for deluding myself into thinking it would make you come back to me.”

“Pansy,” he said quietly.

“No, I know we’re just friends. I can see that you’re in love with Harry. I’ve seen it for a while. You deserve it. And I’ll get over it. I guess I was just feeling sorry for myself.”

Draco kissed the side of her head. These were the moments that kept him in Pansy’s company. The times she truly opened up were few and far between. And he knew he was one of the few to see them.

“Do you want to spend the day together? Just the two of us?” He glanced down at his bare left arm. “We have some catching up to do.”

hdhdhd

Seventh and Eighth Years gathered together in the Great Hall for the last meal before the rest of the students returned. Shepherd’s Pie was Ron’s favorite and he was happily piling more on his plate when he noticed Terry Boot, who had returned to Hogwarts a few days early, walk past Harry, bumping into him hard. The glass of pumpkin juice Harry was holding spilled down the front of his robes and splashed a bit on Ron. Harry gritted his teeth but otherwise remained calm.

“Oi, what’d you do that for?” Ron yelled at Boot.

“Let it go, Ron,” Harry pleaded.

“No. Boot! I’m talking to you.” Ron stood.

Terry turned around, puffing his chest out. “Defending your little bum chum?” Boot teased.

“What’s your problem?” Ron wasn’t easily intimidated these days. Going through the war had matured Ron and gave him confidence he’d never had before.

Boot walked back toward Ron, while the red head left his seat to meet him. “I’ll tell you what my problem is,” Boot began. “First off, this so-called hero is nothing but a fraud. Some of my good friends died because of him. Because he was too chicken to give himself up to you know who.”

“Harry did give himself up.”

“Not soon enough,” Boot sneered.

Ron’s eyes narrowed. He knew this idiot didn’t know the whole story and he tried his best not punch him.

“And then we find out he’s not a man at all. He’s Malfoy’s bitch. The world needed to know. I just can’t believe you had the nerve to stay here once word got out.”

Ron clench his fists, but Hermione came and laid a gentle hand on him, reminding him to remain calm. Harry stood.

“It was you. You told Rita Skeeter that pack of lies.”

“T’weren’t lies if you’re really fuckin’ him,” Boot smirked, unaware that Draco had been listening in. “He’s a bigger ponce than you. Tell me Potter, does he scream like a girl when you’re pounding into his arse?” Boot laughed.

“Well, what the fuck are you two waiting for?” Draco yelled at Ron and Harry.

Boot turned toward the voice and was met with a fist to the jaw. Which was quickly followed by a punch in the gut. When Boot doubled over, the Slytherin kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. He leaned over the battered and bloodied bully.

“How’s it feel to get beat up by a girl?”

“Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall screamed. “You will desist this instant. Mr. Goldstein, Mr. Entwistle, please take Mr. Boot to the hospital wing. As for you, Mr. Malfoy–”

“No, Professor,” Anthony interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m declining to help Boot to the hospital wing.”

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said curtly. “Then, perhaps you, Mr. Corner.” “No ma’am.”

Stephen Cornfoot put an arm around Terry Boot’s chest and helped him to his feet. “I’ve got it,” he hissed. The other Ravenclaws crossed their arms over their chests.

“He had it coming if you ask me,” Anthony said.

“While you are entitled to your opinion, Mr. Goldstein, I do not condone violence at Hogwarts.” The Headmistress turned to Draco, who was rubbing his hand. “And _you_ have earned yourself two months of Saturday detention. You will also be suspended from any outside trips or Quidditch matches for the next two months.”

“But Professor, did you hear what he said about Harry?”

“They’re just words, Mr. Malfoy. You would do well to control your temper.”

“You don’t understand,” Draco grumbled. “Don’t worry Harry. It was worth it.” He grinned when he saw the worried look on Harry’s face.

hdhdhd

“Three, two, one! Happy New Year!” The entire room shouted at once. They held their wands up let sparks shower from them. Ron brought some indoor fireworks from his brother’s shop and set them off in the Slytherin common room.

Since many of the Seventh and Eighth Years had already been in Slytherin for the wand parties, those wishing to celebrate the New Year together gathered there. Pansy graciously allowed Harry to invite the three underclass Gryffindors, who mainly stood wide-eyed in the corner.

Harry and Draco kissed to commemorate their first New Year’s Eve together. Other couples did so as well. Theo, not being part of an official couple swept Pansy up and dipped her before planting a memorable kiss on her lips. She was grateful not to be left out as she observed the other happy couples. Theo then made his way to any other girls that didn’t have a partner and repeated the gesture. Susan Bones didn’t particularly enjoy it, but she appreciated the thought.

Harper passed out sparkling wine that he brought from his family’s winery. Draco couldn’t help shaking his head and smiling at the boy’s ensemble. A sleeveless black t-shirt with a sequined Union Jack on it, red leather trousers that fit him quite well, and a royal blue boa around his neck. In his curly, golden brown hair sat a small crystal tiara. He also sported a hefty amount of guyliner and pink lipgloss.

At the same time, a similar party was going on in Ravenclaw. Except there would be no bedazzled boys wearing tiaras. Boot, Cornfoot and several other less tolerant Hogwarts students gathered. Instead of wine, they downed firewhiskey and bitched about Harry Poufter and the other pansies. 

“I’ll get that son of a bitch Malfoy for what he did,” Boot bellyached. “I’ll get both of them.”

“Who knew that little queer could punch so hard?” Stephen laughed.

“It’s not fucking funny.” Terry pushed him.

One of the other students asked what Boot was going to do about it.

“I haven’t decided yet. Telling Skeeter about them didn’t seem to do them any harm,” Boot rubbed his jaw. “I wonder what would hurt the most.”

“You weren’t ready for it, Terry. I bet you could beat the shit out of Malfoy in a fair fight.” Someone said.

“Nah, that would only hurt for a little while. I want him to hurt for a long time.”

Cornfoot had a thought. “They’re practically inseparable. I saw them together constantly since Christmas. Maybe you could break them up or something.”

“Hmm. Not a bad idea,” Terry agreed. “Then we wouldn’t have to watch them slobber all over each other either.”

“Bonus,” Stephen grinned.

Together they hatched a plan to bring down Drag-queen Malfoy and his little boyfriend.

hdhdhd


	25. Who's Your Daddy?

January 1 1999

While the professors were busy greeting and checking in the students returning on the Hogwarts Express, the Seventh and Eighth Years were relaxing in their common rooms.

“Oi, where are you going Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry reluctantly stopped. “To talk to Ginny.”

“Oh. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’ll go alone,” Harry answered.

“Why would Ron need to go with you to talk to Ginny?” Hermione questioned.

“He doesn’t need to, I just said.”

“But why would he _think_ he needed to?”

“Mione, please. I know you can’t help yourself, but let it go.”

“Sorry,” she replied apologetically.

Without another word, Harry left Gryffindor and walked purposefully to Ginny’s room. When he arrived, Dean was there as well. But Harry would have expected that.

Harry cleared his throat before beginning what was sure to be one of the most uncomfortable conversations of his life.

“So, Ron tells me that the two of you are marrying this month. The thirtieth?”

Equally uncomfortable, Ginny replied, “Yes. I’m embarrassed to say that Dean and I are unexpectedly . . . expecting.”

“You and Dean. Are you certain?” Harry asked, not quite tipping his hand. He was hoping for Ginny to come clean about the situation before he called her on it.

“Yes. I haven’t had . . . I’ve been very late. A Healer confirmed it.”

Dean remained quiet throughout the exchange. Harry addressed him.

“And you think you’re ready to raise a baby?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I’m gonna have to be.”

His cavalier response infuriated Harry. “You guess?”

“Harry, it’s none of your business,” Ginny defended her man.

“What if I think it is, Gin. What if I think maybe that’s _my_ baby you’re carrying.”

“Harry we were already broken up by the time–”

“I heard you,” Harry admitted finally. “At your parents’ house on Christmas. I heard the two of you talking about it. You’re not sure whose baby that is.” He pointed at her still flat belly.

Ginny’s eyes widened. “Harry.”

“What if it is? Are you going to marry Ginny?” Dean interjected.

“No,” Harry answered honestly.

“Well, I will. I love her. We can make a family, a home.”

“With _my_ baby?”

“You can’t make a real family. Why would you even want this baby?” Dean asked.

Harry felt as if he were punched in the gut. Is that what they thought? Because he’s gay, he can’t be part of a family. He didn’t have a chance to defend himself before Ginny interrupted his thoughts.

“That’s not what Dean meant,” she said using the most gentle tone she could, she tried to explain. “It’s just that, you’ve gone through a lot of changes recently. You really need time to get to know yourself better before you take on the task of raising another person. It’s not because you’re gay. Harry, I would never keep you away, if this is your baby.”

“But you planned to. If I hadn’t said anything, you would have kept quiet about it.”

“No, Harry. I wouldn’t have been able to do that. Maybe in the beginning,” she confessed. “But we would have told you. Eventually.”

Harry shook his head. “Eventually? After I’d missed all the important stuff? I understand what you’re thinking. I understand that you even think you were doing the right thing for me. But it isn’t. I was raised by people other than my parents. I’m not about to let my own children go through that. It’s not a reflection on you, but I can’t do it.”

“Oh, Harry, I hadn’t thought of that. I’m so sorry.” She hugged him to her. Tears fell onto his shoulder as she sobbed. Harry glanced at Dean.

“Yeah, she does that a lot. Wait a second and she be all happy again,” he laughed.

“Shut up, Dean,” she wiped her eyes and released Harry.

“There is a way we can clear all of this up. Before you have the baby. A Healer told me it’s possible, if mine and Dean’s magical signatures are different enough.”

“Will it hurt the baby?” Ginny asked.

“He didn’t say,” Harry frowned. That thought hadn’t occurred to him. But surely the Healer would have mentioned it. “Of course, we’d only do it if it were safe.”

Dean watched the pair as they discussed a plan to go to St. Mungo’s for an exam. He felt as though they were leaving him out of the decision process.

“Do I get a say?” Dean broke in.

“What?” Harry asked.

“What if it doesn’t sound safe to me. Do I get a say, or are you two just going to go ahead without me?”

“Dean, this benefits you as well. If it’s not your baby, you won’t have to marry Ginny,” Harry explained.

Dean gave a small humorless laugh. “See, that’s where we’re different. I don’t see it as having to marry her. I _get_ to marry her. I love Gin, whether or not this child is mine.”

“You mean, you want to go through with it, even if the baby turns out to be Harry’s?” Ginny was incredulous.

“I love you. And you’re going to need help. And Harry has already said he’s not going to marry you.”

She looked at her ex-boyfriend. “Well, frankly, I wouldn’t want to marry him either.”

“I’ll support you any way I can,” Harry added. “I promise.”

“Why don’t we wait to find out for sure before we go making any more plans,” Ginny suggested. “We should go to St. Mungo’s as soon as possible.”

The trio decided to go the next day, as it was Saturday. Classes wouldn’t resume until Monday and Ginny thought she would burst if she had to wait a whole week before finding out the truth.

hdhdhd

January 2 1999

Ginny, Dean, Harry and Ron sat in chairs waiting for the Welcome Witch to call them back to a room. Each was tapping a foot or drumming fingers or biting fingernails. Harry would have preferred to bring Draco, but since he got himself suspended from any outside activities, he brought Ron.

“Did they say how much longer?” Ron asked.

Harry turned to him. “You were here, Ron. You know as much as we do.” He’d brought Ron for moral support but was now regretting it. Ron seemed more nervous than he felt.

“Miss Weasley?” the Welcome Witch called and looked toward Ginny. “Come with me.”

The four stood up.

“Oh. Are you _all_ coming in?”

Ginny glanced at the boys. “Yes. But only two are being tested. That one is my brother.” She pointed to Ron, unnecessarily. It was bad enough to have two prospective fathers. Ginny didn’t want the witch to think there were three.

The witch le`d them to a room down the hall and the foursome once again sat waiting.

Healer Cummins walked through the door smiling. “Harry, good to see you again.” He held out his hand to shake.

“Hello,” Harry returned. “This is Ginny, Dean and my friend Ron.”

The Healer frowned as he shook their hands.

“Oh, Ron is just a friend. He’s Ginny’s brother. Draco and I are still together.”

“You don’t owe me any explanation, Harry,” Cummins said. “So,” he looked at the chart. “Is this what you were asking me about last week? You want to find out which of you boys is the baby’s father?”

“Yes,” Ginny answered for Harry. “Is this safe?”

“Certainly. I wouldn’t offer the procedure if it weren’t,” the Healer told her. “The spell is relatively simple. It’s a modified version of Prior Incantato. The tricky part is interpreting the results.”

“I’m not sure I understand how it works,” Ginny said. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“Magic has a frequency, like sound waves or light waves. And each wizard has a relatively unique one. Not nearly as unique as fingerprints, mind you. But as long as Harry and, um,” Cummins paused.

“Dean,” Dean reminded him.

“Yes. As long as Harry and Dean’s magical frequencies are different enough, we should be able to rule one of them out.” 

“Can we do it now?” Harry asked, anxious to get it over with and get back to Hogwarts.

“I’ll need you one at a time. Would like to go first, Harry?”

Harry nodded his head and followed the Healer out of the room and into a smaller, nearly empty room. Cummins dimmed the light and performed the spell. A ghost image appeared around Harry, like an aura. The Healer used his wand and a strange device Harry had never seen before to capture some of the image. The entire procedure took less than fifteen minutes. Dean, then Ginny followed.

An hour after first speaking with the Healer, the quartet waited anxiously for the results.

Harry and Dean both stood as Healer Cummins walked into the room. But it was Ron who spoke first.

“Well?”

Cummins gazed into the expectant faces of the four Hogwarts students. Deciding not to add to their anxiety any further, he answered Ron’s question curtly.

“Congratulations Dean.”

Harry and Ginny both let out a huge sigh of relief. Ron slumped in his chair.

“At least that’s done,” Ron said. “And Mum will never have to know that there was any question about that baby’s father.”

Ginny’s face reddened, but she gave no retort.

Harry held out his hand to Dean. “I hope you’re prepared for this. Good luck mate.” He turned to Ginny. “My offer still stands. Anything I can do to help.”

She hugged him. “Thank you.”

“If you don’t mind, though, I’d like to get back to school. Draco will be anxious to hear.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Dean and I have some questions for the Healer. You and Ron go ahead.”

Ron kissed his sister on the cheek, and he and Harry left.

hdhdhd

January 8 1999

“This is becoming a habit,” Draco smirked as he walked into his dormitory to find Pansy siting on his bed.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, uncharacteristically serious.

“Are you okay?” He sat down beside her. “Did something happen?”

“No. Not to me.” She fiddled with her hands in her lap.

“Pansy, you’re scaring me. You’re never this serious.”

“Remember my mother’s diary? The one I found the rules and clues to the wand game?”

He nodded. “What of it?”

“After we set up the game, I tossed it aside and didn’t give it a second thought.” She paused, “Until this week.”

Draco raised his eyebrows, indicating her to continue.

“I read more of it. And most of it was just a bunch of boring crap about school and boys. Some of it was stuff that happened during the games.” She made a face. “Stuff I really didn’t need to know about my mother.”

“Pans, get to the point already.”

“Okay. She wrote about what happened when the game was over. Dra, everything went back to the way it was before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, all the couples that got together, broke up afterward. It was the game the whole time. It was like a matchmaker. But it only worked while the game was still going on.”

Draco furrowed his brow. “My parents stayed together, obviously. And your parents.”

“Your parents were already a couple before they started the game. And my parent weren’t actually paired up during the game. They dated after that. No wonder they had a rough marriage,” she chuckled.

“So, you’re saying . . . that when the game is over, none of us will stay as couples?” Draco was trying to make sure he understood what Pansy was implying. “But isn’t the game pretty much over already? There hasn’t been a party in over a month.”

Pansy nodded. “Yes, but the game hasn’t been dismantled. The spells are still on the cauldrons.”

She could see the look of panic growing on Draco’s face.

“Then, we simply won’t take the spells off,” he said. 

“Draco, what about all those couples that really aren’t quite so in love as they think? Is it really fair to force them to stay together?”

Draco laughed out loud. “Ha! Since when have you ever cared about fair? I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that Harry only loves me because of the game. You’re wrong!” He was shouting as if the louder he said it, the truer it would be. “And I don’t love him because of the game.”

“Are you certain?”

Draco stood and began to pace the room. He did love Harry. It wasn’t the game. He wanted him before they had been paired together. But Harry hadn’t even discovered his true sexual nature until the game began. Draco shook his head. No, Harry broke up with Ginny before that. That had nothing to do with the game. Did it?

“Don’t remove the spells,” he said quietly. “Please.”

“If you’re so sure that he loves you, why not? Look, I know I’m hardly one to judge. But is that really how you want to live your life? Do you really want to spend your life with a man that only loves you because of a spell? It’s no better than an Imperius.”

He stopped pacing and glared at her. “I won’t come back to you, if that’s what you think. Even if it turned out Harry’s only with me due to the spells, I won’t come back to you,” he said angrily.

She crossed her arms over her chest. The thought had occurred to her. If Draco and Harry broke up, she may have a chance with him. A very small one, but more than she had now.

He knelt before her, more calm. His expression softened as he pleaded. “Pansy, don’t remove the spells. _Please._ In my heart, I know that what Harry and I have is real. But I can’t take a chance that it’s not. Maybe it’s the Slytherin in me,” Draco took her hands in his. “I’m happy for the first time I can remember. Please don’t take it away from me.”

Pansy looked into his eyes. She never could deny him anything. The one time she did, she regretted it and probably would for the rest of her life.

She sighed. “All right. I’ll take the cauldrons home and put them in the cellar. No one will disturb them there.”

“Thank you.” His voice trembled. He moved to the bed and rested his head briefly on her shoulder.

“Are you sure you can live with condemning everyone else while you’re happy?”

“They all seem happy to me,” Draco justified. “And who’s to say they won’t be happy in the future? Ginny and Dean are getting married for crying out loud.”

“We could be keeping some of them from their soul mates.”

Draco laughed humorlessly. “Don’t you know by now that guilt trips don’t work on me?”

“Yeah,” she chortled. “It’s not like I really give a crap if Tracey marries Goldstein. Or anybody else for that matter.”

“That’s my girl,” Draco smiled. Then his smile faded. “Did you tell anyone else about this? Blaise?”

“No, I only just found out. Don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret.”

Draco nodded and smiled again. But he knew better than to think he could really trust Pansy. She would hold this over his head for a very long time. But at the moment, he had no choice.


	26. Wedding Day

January 29 1999

“I wish I was going with you,” Draco pouted.

“Me too,” Harry replied. “McGonagall wouldn’t make an exception?”

Draco shook his head. “Bitch,” he muttered under his breath. “I could try to sneak out.”

“I don’t want you to get into _more_ trouble,” Harry said. “It’s not going to be a big party or anything. And I’ll come right back afterwards.”

“No,” Draco grumbled. “You should stay and have fun. It’s my own fault I can’t go. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. “You don’t look fine.”

Looking down at his fidgeting fingers, Draco finally confessed, “It’s just that we haven’t missed a Friday night together since that first party.” He glanced up at Harry. “I’m just going to miss you tonight. A _lot_.”

Harry hadn’t thought about it before, but now that Draco mentioned it, he realized that he was going to miss their ‘date night’ as well. At least Draco would have an opportunity to be alone in his dormitory. And having that thought in his head, Harry had a feeling he was going to feel randy all weekend long with no relief in sight.

As if sensing what Harry was thinking, Draco smirked. “I’ll be thinking about you.”

“Unfortunately, I’ll be thinking about you, too,” Harry laughed.

“I guess if I was going with you, we wouldn’t be able to have a good shag anyway.”

“No. Molly won’t let anyone share rooms. The girls are with girls and boys with– but you and I wouldn’t be allowed to stay together.”

“I’ll miss you,” Draco said, reminded of their goodbyes at Christmastime. He hoped their time apart would be less eventful than before.

“I’ll miss you too. See you tomorrow night. I’ll tell them all you say hello.” Harry kissed Draco goodbye and reluctantly went off to meet Ron and Hermione so they could all go to the Burrow together.

hdhdhd

January 30 1999

Exhausted from cleaning out the potions supply cabinet, Draco dragged his feet to the Great Hall to meet Blaise, Harper and Pansy for lunch. He rolled his eyes and growled slightly as he realized he was walking behind Terry Boot and Stephen Cornfoot. Cornfoot turned his head, then nudged Boot.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Malfoy? All alone?” Boot snickered.

Draco glared, but tried to keep walking.

Boot blocked his way. “I asked you a question.”

“Fuck off,” Draco mumbled. “Unless you’d like me to beat the shit out of you again.”

“I wasn’t ready for it. I’ll take you any time.”

“He’s not worth it Terry,” Cornfoot warned. “You don’t want two months of detention. It’s enough to break them up.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Break who up?”

“You and Harry Poufter, who else?” Stephen laughed.

“We haven’t broken up. What are you talking about?”

Boot sniggered, “You will.” He began to walk away.

Draco caught his arm and wheeled him around. “What did you do?”

Boot shrugged. “Nothing.” He pulled his arm forcefully out of Draco’s grasp. “Now, I can’t speak for your father . . .”

“My father? What’s he got to do with this?” He grabbed the front of Terry’s shirt. “What the hell did you do? Did you contact my father?”

“Looks like the little ponce is worried,” Boot said. “I guess Daddy doesn’t approve of his _extracurricular_ activities. Oops, maybe we shouldn’t have sent him that owl.” He laughed and continued on his way to the Great Hall.

Draco’s face paled a bit. “What did you do?” he asked Cornfoot slowly and deliberately. He took his wand out.

Cornfoot’s expression became serious. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Malfoy. We just sent out a note telling what was going on around here. You know, to get your father to give you an ultimatum or something.”

“You moron, my father doesn’t give ultimatums. He takes action.”

“He’s in Azkaban. What can he do?” Stephen questioned Draco. “Besides, we only suggested he get Potter out of your life. We figured he’d threaten to disown you if you didn’t break up with him and find a girl to shack up with.”

Draco stood thinking, forgetting all about the boy standing there. His father had plenty of connections outside the prison. He could easily find someone to carry out any misdeeds he wished done. But he couldn’t touch Harry at Hogwarts. And when they left school, Lucius wouldn’t know where they were, because Draco sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him.

“Malfoy, jeez, you’re being a little melodramatic.” Cornfoot was beginning to have second thoughts about his and Boot’s prank.

“No, I’m not. You don’t know my father.” Draco tried to calm down. “But, perhaps you’re right. Father wouldn’t take a note from students too seriously. At least he doesn’t know Harry’s off Hogwarts grounds today.”

“Uh, there may have been something about the Weasley wedding mentioned in the note,” Cornfoot told him. “And we made it sound like the letter was from someone in the Ministry. One of those pureblood advocates.”

Fists clenching, Draco tried to remain calm. There wasn’t any reason to believe his father would really send someone to off Harry at the Burrow. Then again, Lucius had been humiliated by Rita Skeeter’s article. Narcissa had been able to smooth things over among her crowd, claiming it was merely a phase many young wizards went through. But Lucius had taken a great deal of condemnation for allowing his only son to be seduced by the Chosen One. To hear Skeeter tell it, Harry used his influence and position among wizards to take advantage of the young Death Eater. Pure blood families all over were ridiculing Malfoy and the apparent end of his line.

But was that enough to drive Lucius to extremes? Yes, Draco decided it was.

“It was a prank,” Stephen explained. “Retaliation for beating up Terry. It was only a suggestion to send some bloke to get Harry to leave you. You know, to lure him away.”

“Well, your prank just might get Harry seriously injured. Or worse.” Draco began to walk toward the Headmistress’ chambers.

“Wait,” Cornfoot called out. “We were only trying to break you two up. You don’t think anything is really going to happen to Harry, do you?”

“You two had better hope not,” Draco answered threateningly.

hdhdhd

Draco begged McGonagall to let him go to the Burrow. He carefully and calmly explained what Stephen Cornfoot had told him. He stood in disbelief when she denied him.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m quite certain Harry is safe at the Weasley home. Your father is in Azkaban and can’t harm anyone there.”

“But Professor.”

McGonagall sighed. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll put in a floo call to Arthur.” Leaving Draco to wait by himself outside her chambers, the Headmistress contacted the Weasleys through the floo network. They had assured her that Harry was indeed safe and that the day had been uneventful. She hadn’t mentioned Draco’s theory, not wanting to alarm the family unnecessarily.

Draco stewed all through lunch, while Pansy and Blaise attempted to placate him.

“Those gits probably didn’t even send an owl,” Blaise suggested. “They’re just trying to stir up more trouble.”

“Yes,” Pansy agreed. “And why would your father follow suggestions made by a couple of Ravenclaw students, anyway?”

Draco pushed the food around his plate. “They made it sound like one of his colleagues sent it,” he told them. “If my father feels his back is against the wall, he’ll lash out. That article in the Prophet made it sound like Harry forced me to be with him. Father will see getting rid of Harry as a way to get me back into the Greengrass’ good graces. Mother has already explained my relationship with Harry as a phase to be outgrown.”

The more Draco thought about it, the more worried he became. He had to get Harry back to the safety of Hogwarts.

“I need to get out of here,” Draco growled. “Now.”

“What are you going to do?” Blaise asked

“Storm McGonagall’s office and use her floo, if I have to.”

“Oh, Dra, you’ll get yourself into so much trouble if you do. Especially after McGonagall already told you no,” Pansy worried.

“Since when do you care about following the rules?”

Pansy laughed. “I’m not suggesting you don’t sneak out. I’m just saying you have to be smart about it,” she grinned.

“Why don’t you use the passage to Honeydukes?” Harper casually questioned.

“What passage?” Blaise asked.

“You don’t know about the passage to Hogsmeade? I suppose it is somewhat secret. But the Gryffindors know about it,” he replied.

“Why don’t you ever use it?” Blaise wanted to know.

Harper winked. “Who says I don’t.”

“Where is it? I can get to Hogsmeade through it? Are there charms I need to know?” Draco was very anxious for the information. He wanted to get to Harry right away. He had a bad feeling, even though he didn’t sense any danger through their connection. It was a comforting feeling and Draco wondered why wizards no longer wanted to be joined.

Harper told him to tap the statue of the one-eyed witch and say _Dissendium_ to open the passage. Draco hurried to the third floor corridor–one step closer to making sure his love was safe. From Hogsmeade, he would be able to apparate to the Burrow. Back in Hogwarts, Blaise, Pansy and Harper would cover for him, should any of the professors be looking for him.

hdhdhd

Apparating to a secluded spot outside the Burrow, Draco stealthily made his way toward the home. He wasn’t certain if the wards would allow him access. Arthur had mentioned that Draco would be welcome to come back, but Draco couldn’t remember if he had adjusted the wards for him at Christmas time. He could, of course, break through if he wished. Since the war, the wards were more of a forewarning of company than protection. But still, Draco didn’t want his presence known until necessary.

He held his breath as he walked through a gentle wall of magic. Arthur _had_ adjusted the wards for him. Perhaps because he was expected at the wedding. Slowly, Draco stepped softly up to the door and turned the handle. He listened for voices but heard none in close proximity. Ron’s voice carried from the kitchen, along with another, but Draco couldn’t make out what either was saying.

Swiftly entering the house, the Slytherin tiptoed toward the kitchen. Ron was standing in front of the sink with his back to Draco. Hermione was speaking somewhere out of Draco’s sight.

Suddenly, and unexpectedly, a figure apparated between Draco and Ron, blocking the blond’s view.

“Oi, who are you?” Ron questioned as he turned around.

“Where’s Potter?” the intruder said in a gravely voice.

At once Ron felt as if he were watching the situation in slow motion. The figure leveled his wand at Ron and repeated his question. Ron paled as he realized he did not have his wand on him. There was something familiar to him, though, and he glanced at the window behind him. Another man appeared near Hermione, and she drew her wand to defend herself.

Draco stepped to his left just enough to reveal himself to Ron, and the ginger dropped to the floor. At the same instance, Draco cast the killing curse at the Death Eater in front of him. Before the curse could reach its target, the man disapparated, along with the other that Hermione had Stupified. Draco’s curse shattered the cabinet in front of the sink.

“No! Ron!” Hermione trained her wand on Draco.

“Mione! I’m all right,” Ron called to her. “He wasn’t aiming for me.”

“Where’s Harry?” Draco begged.

“Right here,” Harry said from the sitting room. He was standing next to a bound and stunned Death Eater. The third to enter the home. Draco ran to him and hugged him fiercely.

“What’s going on?” Molly called from upstairs.

“Nothing, Mum,” Ron tried to sound calm.

“What was that noise?”

“Uh, I just, uh, dropped something.”

Hermione looked at Ron in disbelief.

“What?” he shrugged. “I’m not going to tell her what really happened. Not before the wedding.”

Ever the voice of reason, Hermione suggested they set up new wards around the grounds. Obviously, the Death Eaters were after Harry, and more may return when they learn of the failed attempt. She went outside and set about the task of preventing apparating and disapparating, along with Protego horribilus. She wasn’t taking any chances with Harry’s life, or Ron’s.

“What do we do with him?” Ron asked, pointing to the unconscious man.

“I’ll take care of him,” Draco grinned.

“Draco, what are you doing here? Did McGonagall change her mind?” Harry took his hand. “Not that I’m not glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, that was lucky,” Ron said. “It was just like your dream Harry.”

Harry winced at Ron’s mention of the dream in which Draco curses Ron. He never did tell his lover about it.

“What dream? Another one that came true?” Draco queried. “You knew you were going to be attacked here, and you came anyway?”

“No,” Ron laughed. “He dreamt you tried to kill me.”

“I didn’t try to kill _you_. I was–”

Ron held his hands up. “I know, mate. You were going for the Death Eater. But if I hadn’t ducked . . . good thing you told me about that, Harry.”

Hermione had walked back in and put an arm around Ron, shivering at the thought of what might have happened.

“I knew there had to be some other explanation,” Harry told Draco. “There was no point in telling you.”

You should have told me anyway,” Draco scowled. “What if he hadn’t ducked?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll tell you everything.” Harry held Draco close, then stepped back. “But wait, why are you here?”

“I found out that Boot and Cornfoot were stirring up trouble with my father. I was afraid he’d take drastic action against you. And I was right. McGonagall still wouldn’t let me come here, the cunt.” He glanced at Hermione. “Oh, sorry.”

“So you snuck out?” Harry smirked.

“Did you know there’s a passage from the third floor corridor to Honeyduke’s?”

All three Gryffindors nodded. Draco snorted.

The Death Eater at Harry’s feet began to stir, prompting Draco to hit him with another stunner.

“I’d better get him out of here before anyone else comes down.”

“Too late,” George smiled. “So . . . what’s going on?”

“Nothing Georgie,” Ron said. “That’s what we’re telling Mum.”

“All right, but I want the whole story myself.”

“Fine,” Draco said. “I’ll tell you if you help me take out the trash.” He jerked a thumb toward the unconscious man. George helped Draco get the intruder out of the house so they could question him. They found out the three men had been hired by a man representing yet another man. Draco was convinced his father was at the root of the scheme, though the Death Eater swore he was unable to confirm it.

George put in a floo call to the Ministry to come for the would-be assassin. After two Aurors came to collect him, and the excitement had died down, Draco insisted that Harry come back to Hogwarts with him.

“I can’t miss the wedding. It’ll only be another couple hours,” Harry pleaded. “Stay with me. You’ll be in trouble anyway if McGonagall catches you. You may as well stay.” Harry looked at him over the rim of his glasses. “Please?”

The corner of Draco’s mouth rose slightly. “No fair.” He sighed. “All right. But we’re leaving as soon as it’s over.”

hdhdhd

True to his word, Draco pulled Harry away the moment the ceremony was over and they had offered their congratulations. Draco didn’t relax until they were safely tucked away in Harry’s dormitory. Ron remained at the Burrow with Hermione, Dean was obviously not coming back to live with the other Gryffindors, and Neville had been spending much of his free time in Luna’s common room. Seamus would most likely return from wherever he was, but not until later.

“So, that’s three of four dreams, that I know of, that have come true,” Draco said as he and Harry lay on the bed.

“Draco, you know Ginny isn’t carrying my baby.”

“Yes, but that just means that _she’s_ not the mother of your children. They still must have a mother though.” Draco paused. “Are you disappointed? Even a little bit?”

“Disappointed that I’m not going to have a baby with someone I don’t love and don’t want to spend my life with? No.”

“But it would have solved the mystery.”

Harry sat up. “Why can’t you let this go? It’s probably far in the future.”

“I can’t help it. I thought we’d be together forever.”

“We will if we want to,” Harry told him. “I wish I’d never had that reading. Prophecy is never exactly what it seems. None of my dreams turned out just the way I saw them.”

Draco thought about that. “You’re right, I suppose. Have you told me about all of your dreams?”

“Only the ones I have over again,” Harry said. “I figure those are the only ones that are sort of playing out in real life.” He grinned. “Although, I do have one where I’m being fucked senseless by this gorgeous blond.”

Draco leered at Harry. “I have a feeling that one is about to come true.”


	27. Do The Right Thing

February 4 1999

“It has come to my attention that you snuck out of school on Saturday last against my specific instructions, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall tapped her foot under her desk as Draco stood in front of her. He refused to cower, feeling quite justified in his actions. “What am I to do with you?” she asked rhetorically.

Draco offered no response.

“Unfortunately, it seems you were correct in your theory about Harry being attacked,” the professor continued. “Arthur Weasley owled me yesterday with the details surrounding the incident.”

Draco relaxed slightly. “See, I told you.”

“I suggest you keep quiet, unless you wish to find yourself in more trouble,” McGonagall cut him off. As much as she hated to admit it, Draco had been right. According to Arthur, not only Harry, but likely Ron would have been injured or killed as well if Draco hadn’t shown up at the Burrow when he did.

“I cannot stress enough that the ends do not always justify the means.” McGonagall sighed. “However, in this case, your actions proved prudent. Is there anything you wish to say now?”

There were many things Draco wished to say.

“Why didn’t Boot get punished for the things he said?” Draco immediately wished he hadn’t blurted out the first thought going through his mind.

“As I explained before, name calling is hardly a punishable offense. If it were, you would have spent your entire career at Hogwarts in detention.”

Draco looked down at the floor. She was right. He’d spent a great deal of time verbally tormenting the Golden Trio himself.

“And he didn’t go completely unpunished. He lost a significant amount of points for his House. And, I suspect, the respect of more than a few fellow students.” The professor smiled softly. “Draco, there will always be people in this world, or the muggle world, who will persecute and harass those they don’t like or understand. And it’s difficult not to want to fight back. But you must rise above hurtful words. If you give in, and become violent, you’re no better than those who persecute you.”

“So, we’re just supposed to sit and take it while tossers like Boot go around taking jabs at us?”

“Have you heard the saying, _living well is the best revenge_?”

Draco shook his head

“It’s an old muggle saying. And it means that, instead of retaliating against those injustices you feel, live your life to the fullest. Don’t let them bring you down. You have come a long way in the past year, Draco. Keep moving forward. Don’t let people such as Terry Boot bring you down.”

“You’re talking about Harry, too, aren’t you? So many people were against him, or doubted him. But it didn’t stop him from doing what he thought was right.”

“Yes.” The professor stood and walked around her desk to look up at Draco. “You are on your way to becoming a fine man. Don’t get distracted by pettiness. Be true to your heart and do what you think is right.”

“I did professor. That’s why I snuck out.”

She smiled. “I know, that’s why I’m not punishing you. In fact, I’m releasing you from the rest of your detention duty.”

“Thank you professor.”

“And if it makes you feel better, I’ve informed the Ministry of your father’s suspected actions. He’ll be kept under a closer watch from now on, I’m sure.”

“It does help. Thank you.” 

“You’re dismissed,” McGonagall told him. She watched Draco as he scurried out of her chamber, a wide grin on his face.

She called after him, “Draco, doing the right thing is rarely the easy thing. Remember that.”

He nodded in reply and quickly left before she could change her mind about his detentions.

hdhdhd

As Draco made his way back to Slytherin, his grin slowly faded. He thought about the things Professor McGonagall had said. The one that kept gnawing at him was, _be true to your heart and do what you think is right_.

Ever since his conversation with Pansy about the wand game, he’d felt a bit guilty for continuing the spell. The one that could possibly spell disaster for more than one young couple. The more Draco thought about it, the more he realized that there was more than love to a relationship. He remembered Blaise’s assessment of his relationship with Harper. It was clear that Harper was smitten. Blaise too, though he would probably never admit it. But they had little in common and Blaise didn’t expect it to last. Draco wondered, if he and Harry didn’t have enough in common, could love alone keep them together. And was it fair to Harry to cage his heart with a spell, while keeping him from finding true happiness?

_Do what you think is right_. Draco knew it was wrong to keep the spells on the cauldron. That wasn’t even the question. The question was whether or not he could live with that decision for the rest of his life. And what if, eventually, the magic faded. He, Pansy and Blaise didn’t really study the magic enough to know if it was permanent. But more than that, Draco didn’t think he’d be able to live with a huge lie hanging over their happiness like a dark cloud threatening to burst at any moment.

He found Pansy sitting in the common room studying. Draco did a double take, then took a moment to observe her. He had never seen such a studious expression on her face. Perhaps she was taking his previous advice to heart. He approached Pansy carefully so as not to startle her.

“Hi. We need to talk.” No point beating around the bush. He began to walk toward his dormitory without waiting to see if she’d follow. He knew she would.

Theo was on his bed looking at _Witches Weekly_, a smut magazine featuring large breasted witches in compromising positions. He paused briefly to acknowledge the pair.

“Beat it, Nott,” Draco said.

“What?”

“I said bugger off.” Draco glared at his roommate. Though much more slightly built than Theo, Draco’s scowl was very effective.

Theo closed the magazine. “Fine,” he hissed. “It’s not as if I want to watch you shag anyway.”

“We’re not–oh, never mind,” Pansy began to explain. “It’s not like I need to protect my reputation,” she laughed.

When they were alone, Draco drew in a large breath and released it slowly.

“I want to remove the spells.”

“What? Are you certain?” Draco didn’t need to explain to which spells he was referring.

“Yes,” he answered. Though his demeanor gave away his uncertainty.

“Why? What’s changed?”

“It was something McGonagall said.”

“Well, it must have been quite compelling for you to be willing to take such a risk.”

“She told me to be true to my heart and to do what I think is right.”

“Ouch, what a guilt trip,” Pansy sympathized. “It’s as if she knew you were doing something devious.”

Draco chuckled. “Who would have thought I’d grow a conscience? She also reminded me that the right thing wasn’t always easy.”

“Maybe it will all work out.” Pansy put a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder. “But if it doesn’t, I’ll be here for you. And I don’t mean that in any way but as your friend.”

Draco glanced away, recalling the hurtful words he said to her regarding their relationship.

“Thanks. I’m not sure I deserve that from you.”

“Of course you don’t,” she joked. “But . . . I hate to bring it up, what about your bond?”

He shrugged. “I suppose if it really is only the spell keeping Harry with me, I’ll be doomed to a lifetime of unrequited love and devotion. It has also occurred to me that the bond may be a result of the game as well. In which case, it will wither away, along with Harry’s love.”

“Well, that’s a depressing thought. Are you sure you want to remove the spells?”

“No. But it’s the right thing to do,” Draco told her. “And, if it is just the game, the only hope I have of winning Harry back is to be honest.”

Pansy placed her palm on Draco’s forehead. “Are you feeling all right? I think those Gryffindor sensibilities have rubbed off on you.”

“What about you? I saw you studying,” he accused.

“Slander.” Pansy teased. She leaned forward as if to tell a secret, even though it was only the two of them in the room.

“I haven’t shagged anyone in two months, either. Oh, what’s happening to us, Dra?”

“I think it’s called growing up.”

“Well, it sucks.”

They fell into a comfortable silence and Pansy leaned her head on Draco’s shoulder.

“So, are you going to tell him?” Pansy finally asked.

“You mean, tell Harry about the spells that might be influencing him? I don’t know. I suppose I should.”

“It may end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Pansy suggested.

“Meaning?”

“If you tell him, it may put ideas in his head. The mind is a powerful thing. He may convince himself that it was the spells all along, whether or not it’s true.”

Draco nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll wait and see what happens.”

“When shall we do it?”

“The sooner, the better,” Draco replied. “Today, if possible.”

“Let’s find Blaise and get it over with then,” Pansy smiled empathetically. 

hdhdhd

February 14 1999

The Potions room was decked out in candlelight, rose petals and black satin. Harry had outdone himself on the decorations. Valentine’s Day had never been particularly successful for him, but he was determined to make the night special.

He had taken advantage of the house elves’ willingness to please him and had asked for a spread worthy of Draco’s tastes. Harry included items that he himself didn’t care much for, such as roast duckling and caviar for his love. But he made sure to include things he liked, too. He wanted to have enough energy to keep up with what was sure to be a busy night. In anticipation of being too worn out, he was already considering skipping classes the next day.

The butterflies in his stomach grew more persistent as he waited for Draco to arrive. When at last the Potions room door opened, he could barely refrain from pouncing on Draco.

“Wow,” Draco whispered. “You did all this for me?”

“No. I’m waiting for Neville,” Harry deadpanned. He grinned. “Of course it’s for you.”

Draco looked down at the bottle of champagne and the small gift box in his hands, feeling inadequate. He had half expected Harry not to be there. It had been more than a week since he, Blaise, and Pansy removed the charms and officially dismantled to wand game.

Tracey Davis and Anthony Goldstein had already broken up. Millicent Bulstrode and Justin Finch-Fletchley had been moving at such a slow pace, they could hardly be called a couple. Oddly enough, they still had plans for Valentine’s Day evening. Draco surmised that it was more out of desperation that they were still giving it a go. Michael Corner and Parvati Patil were seen less and less together. Draco saw it as a sign that they were brought together only by the game. Seamus and Astoria, and Ernie and Daphne hadn’t gotten off to much of a start as couples having been paired late in the game. But both pairs immediately fell out of favor with one another when the game was ended.

That left Luna and Neville, Ginny and Dean, and Harry and Draco as the only real pairs remaining from the wand game.

Feeling overwhelmed, Draco watched the Gryffindor as he nibbled on the delicious food.

“You’re hardly eating,” Harry remarked. “Don’t you like it?”

“No. I mean, yes. I love it. It’s just that . . . you’ve done so much for me and, well, I feel like I’ve barely done anything.”

Harry’ gaze traveled to the wrapped box. “I didn’t get you a gift. That’s a gift, isn’t it?” he grinned.

“It was. It is. Except, now I feel foolish giving it to you after this elegant evening you planned.”

“Nonsense.” Harry held out his hand. Normally, he wasn’t one to covet gifts, but his curiosity was piqued.

“No, I’ll give you something else. Let me take this back.” Draco moved the box behind him.

“I want _that_.” Harry tried to reach behind Draco, whose arms were a tad longer, preventing Harry from reaching his target. Resorting to cheap tactics, Harry tickled Draco’s ribs, sending the Slytherin writhing in a giggling fit. Harry took the opportunity to snatch the box and move quickly move away. He began to tear at the wrappings.

Pulling himself together, Draco begged, “Please don’t. It’s embarrassing.”

Harry merely laughed. “Then why’d you get it in the first place?”

Lowering his head, Draco answered, “Blaise talked me into it.”

Finally getting the box open, Harry removed some tissue to find a metal ring. He held it up with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, it’s too small to be a bracelet. But it’s too big to be a ring. Where am I supposed to wear–” he stopped as the light went on over his head.

Draco blushed. “I told you it was stupid.”

“I don’t know if _it’s_ stupid, but I guess I am. What’s it for? I mean, I think I’ve figured out where to put it, but why? Is it jewelry?”

Draco couldn’t help laughing. He composed himself, however. He didn’t want Harry to think he was making fun of him.

“Not exactly. You put it around your bits before sex. It’s to prolong your pleasure. So you don’t cum as soon.”

Harry leered at his lover. “So, we can make love for even longer?”

Draco swallowed. “That’s the idea.”

“What’s this?” Harry asked, looking into the box again.

“Oh, uh, that’s something I thought you’d look smashing in.”

“Red silk?” Harry questioned as he held up a pair of small, shiny, scarlet panty shorts. “Well, it _is _my colour.” Harry pouted, “I wish I’d gotten something like this for you.”

Draco unbuttoned his own trousers, revealing a bit of lacy pink fabric. “I sort of took the liberty.”

Immediately, Harry lunged forward to pull off Draco’s trousers. “You _have_ to show me that.”

Harry tugged at Draco’s jeans until he could get a complete look at the pale rose coloured mini-jock Draco was wearing. It barely contained the Slytherin’s cock and bollocks, tapering into a narrow band that ended in a thong behind him.

“Fuck. And you didn’t think you’d done enough,” Harry panted. “I’m not going to be able to get that damn ring on at this point.”

Grinning at the effect he had on Harry, Draco leaned forward and kissed his lover. It may have been too late to try out the new toy, but at the rate they were becoming excited, Draco thought they’d probably be done quickly. With a bit of recovery time, they could try again. Besides, he wanted Harry to wear the red pants.

Between kisses, Harry murmured his love for Draco. He kissed and sucked every part of him as he removed every piece of clothing save for the pick lace.

“I wish I could lock you away in here forever,” Harry breathed. “So you could never leave me.”

Draco pulled back.

Seeing the strange look on Draco’s face, Harry tried to correct himself. “I mean, I wouldn’t really lock you away. I could never do that. I could never keep you from your destiny. You’re meant to be a great Potions Master,” he smiled.

“You don’t need to lock me away. The only thing that would drive me away is if you tell me you don’t love me anymore. If that ever happens, I’ll let you go. Because no matter what, I want you to be happy. But it won’t be because I don’t love you.”

“Draco, what’s all this talk?”

Fearing he’d already ruined the mood, Draco sighed. “I . . . need to tell you something.”

Harry sat up straight. His heart sank, worrying about what Draco had to say.

“You can tell me anything,” Harry encouraged.

“I know,” Draco half smiled. “I’m just worried about what you’ll think.”

“Have you done something? Something you think I won’t like?” Harry questioned, the worst scenarios running through his head.

“No. Sort of. Actually, I’ve been keeping something from you. About the wand game we played earlier in the year.”

Now Harry was simply puzzled. He was almost certain Draco was going to tell him he had been unfaithful, or something similar. “What about it?”

“Pansy learned more about it over Christmas break. It seems that the magic controlled more than just the hours of the party.”

“Meaning?”

“You know how a lot of couples that were paired stayed together? Did you notice how many have recently broken up?”

“I didn’t pay much attention, but now that you mention it, I guess I haven’t seen as many couples holding hands as there used to be.”

“That’s because there were spells making couples want to be together.”

“And now everyone is breaking up?” Harry asked. It hadn’t yet occurred to him that he and Draco were also brought together by the game. “I don’t understand. What have you been keeping from me?”

“I was afraid that we were affected by the spells of the game as well.” Draco hung his head. “I asked Pansy to leave the charms in place.”

Harry sat in silence trying to grasp the deeper meaning of what Draco told him. He frowned. “So, you thought all this was just a spell? Are you saying that you don’t really care for me?”

“No, not at all. I feared that it was you who didn’t really care for me.”

Harry’s clenched his jaw. “You’ve known about this since Christmas break? And you’re just telling me now. You were planning to keep me under the spell? That’s why you had such a strange look on your face when I said I wanted to lock you away.”

“I admit that I considered it.” Draco closed his eyes. He wasn’t able to look Harry in the eye. “But Pansy, Blaise and I removed the charms from the cauldrons last week. I realized that I couldn’t keep you if you didn’t truly love me and decided to dismantle the game.”

“And yet you _still_ didn’t tell me.” Harry was disappointed that Draco didn’t trust enough in their feelings for each other. He was disappointed that Draco didn’t feel he could be honest with him. He was disappointed that what they had at that moment, could disappear along with the magic that brought them together.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered. “I don’t blame you for being upset with me.”

“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” Harry pointed out. “How do you know I wouldn’t have said to leave the game as it was?”

“Harry,” Draco opened his eyes. “I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t have suggested that.”

“You’re probably right. But now that there’s a possibility that we’ll end up like those other couples, it’s looking like a pretty good option.”

“You’re already reconsidering your feelings, aren’t you?” Draco grumbled. “You’re trying to analyze them, question them. This is why I didn’t tell you until after the game was over. I didn’t want that knowledge to influence you.”

“But instead it’s your deception that’s influencing me.”

“Harry please, you have to understand,” Draco begged. “I had feelings for you before the game even began. You didn’t even know you’re gay until after we had been paired twice. I was scared.”

Harry stood and began to redress himself. Feeling extremely self-conscious, Draco put on his trousers as well.

“Are you leaving?”

“I need to be alone right now,” Harry said. “I’ll see you in class.”

Draco wanted to follow Harry. He wanted to run after him and make Harry understand. Draco had good intentions. And he eventually did the right thing. Now all he could do was wait for Harry to decide if his feelings for Draco were real. He picked up the gift box and waved his wand at the beautiful setting for their first Valentine date. 

“Evanesco,” he said without emotion. He watched the lovely things Harry set out disappear, leaving the dank, dark Potions room as it was originally. The metaphor was not lost on Draco.

hdhdhd

February 14 1999, continued

“This is really lovely,” Hermione remarked as she popped a small piece of carrot into her mouth. “I’m so impressed you were able to do this.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t that difficult. I got the food from the Three Broomsticks. Ordering up the starry night was a bit tricky, though,” he joked.

They sat in the Astronomy Tower with the stars above them on the unusually clear night. Ron had cast a warming spell around them as it had become quite chilly.

Hermione giggled, feeling giddy from the champagne, and the company. She gazed adoringly at her man.

“Cake?” Ron smiled, pushing a plate toward her.

“No. I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“But you have to. Mum made it special.”

“Later,” Hermione smiled.

Ron frowned. “Just a small bite.” He picked up the fork and handed it to her.

She laughed. “Why are you so insistent? Let me rest a while. You don’t want me to be too full, do you?” Hermione leaned in a little closer to Ron.

He licked his lips nervously. “Yeah, I guess we could rest a while.” He looked up at the sky.

Hermione furrowed her brow and did as Ron did. She glanced at him. “I only meant a rest from eating.”

Ron gazed down at her. Hermione looked beautiful. Her hair was swept up, tiny curls framed her delicate features. Even with minimal make-up, her face was radiant. Ron thought she was about the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And she was with him. She wanted him.

He leaned in and kissed her soft lips. He wanted her too. As they kissed leisurely in the Tower, hands began to roam. Ron pulled Hermione closer. The feel of Hermione’s hand on his crotch sent Ron jumping back.

“Mione, what are you doing?”

She slumped her shoulders. “Well, if you don’t know by now, you haven’t been paying attention.”

“We can’t shag up here in the Astronomy Tower. Someone will see us.”

“No one is going to come all the way up here,” she replied, leaning forward to kiss him again. “Let’s live dangerously.”

Gently pushing her back, Ron suggested once more that they eat the cake.

“Why are you acting so strangely?” Hermione pouted. “Any other time, you’re begging me for some excitement. And tonight you’re acting like virgin on his first date.”

“I just want tonight to be perfect,” Ron explained. “Just have some cake. I promise, you’ll like it. Mum made it special for you.”

“What is with this bloody cake?” Hermione stood. “This evening was perfect. Until you ruined it.”

“Mione, wait.”

“No, Ron. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be turned down by your boyfriend? On Valentine’s Day, no less. I’m even wearing fancy knickers. Not that you’re going to see them any time soon.”

Ron stood, begging Hermione to stay. “It’s not that I don’t want you, I swear. I do. Especially now that I know you’re wearing fancy knickers. I wasn’t expecting you to, you know, get so randy. I planned this evening out, all the details. And when you started throwing it off, I got a bit stressed out.”

Hermione’s frown began to soften. She knew he wasn’t much of a planner. At least in the romantic evening department. She thought perhaps she was being too harsh. The mood wasn’t completely ruined. Hermione stepped closer to embrace him, closing her lips around his left earlobe.

“So let’s just sit back down and have some cake,” Ron whispered.

Pulling away, Hermione was in disbelief. “Again with the bloody cake. This is what I think of your stupid special cake.” She picked up her foot and stomped squarely on the slice of chocolate dessert.

Ron gasped.

“I’m going to bed. Alone.” Hermione turned on her now sticky heel and began to walk away.

“Shit! Wait, I gave you the wrong piece,” Ron called out, but Hermione was already halfway down the staircase. “Fucking Hell,” he cursed.

With the evening cut short, Ron had nothing to do but clean up and return to Gryffindor. He vanished all evidence of their romantic date, save for the single plate of remaining cake.


	28. what comes after a fight

February 14, 1999

By the time Harry got back to Gryffindor, he had calmed down considerably. Logically, he understood Draco’s motives and reasoning. In a way, he wished Draco hadn’t told him any of it. The doubts he was feeling were confusing him. It was supposed to be a wonderful, magical night for them. Instead, it turned out to be their first _real_ argument. 

To Harry’s surprise, Ron was in the dormitory when he walked in.

“What are you doing back?” he asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Harry sat next to Ron on his bed. “Did you guys have a fight?”

“She stepped on the cake.”

Harry laughed. “Is that all?”

“It was special fucking cake. She got mad at me because . . . never mind.”

“Come on, you can tell me. I’ll tell you what happened on my fabulous date,” Harry offered. “I’ll even go first.”

“All right then,” Ron smiled. “Maybe it’ll cheer me up to hear I’m not the only one who cocked things up tonight.”

Harry laughed. “Not by a long shot.” He sighed before he began his account of the evening. “Draco kept something from me. About the wand game we all played. Something that could drastically affect our relationship.”

Ron sat up and pricked his ears. “Ooh, your night already sounds worse than mine. What did he keep from you?”

For a moment, Harry worried that what he was about to tell Ron would further prejudice him against Draco. But he’d already started, so Harry told Ron everything.

“Crikey. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied.

“Do you . . . feel any differently?” Ron hesitantly asked.

“I don’t think so. But I can’t help wondering.” Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Ever since Draco told me about the spells, I’ve been going over the timing of everything in my head. I broke up with Ginny before the game. But I didn’t become aware of my, um, orientation until after the game started. Could a spell have done that? Could it truly make me feel the same as real love?”

Ron pursed his lips. He couldn’t believe he was about to say what he was about to say.

“Does it matter, mate?”

“What?”

“I mean, if a person _thinks_ he’s in love, he is. Right?”

“I suppose.”

“Then stop trying to figure out ways to fuck it up.”

Harry stared at Ron. “When the hell did you get so clever?” he smirked.

“I think Hermione’s rubbed off on me,” Ron laughed.

“Speaking of Hermione, what happened to your romantic date?” Harry asked.

“Oh, well, things were going super at first. We had a romantic supper I brought in from Three Broomsticks. We snogged a bit. And then . . . the cake.”

“That cake?” Harry pointed to the plate on Ron’s side table. The rest of the cake sat behind it with a chunk missing.

“Yeah, I just wanted her to try one piece. That was all. And she kept putting me off. She wanted to shag right there in the Tower.” Ron said it as if it was a ridiculous notion.

“Wait, so she wanted to shag, and you wanted to eat cake? No wonder she was brassed off,” Harry chuckled.

“But it’s a special cake,” Ron whined.

“Well, I’ll try it. Draco and I didn’t make it to dessert.” Harry stood up and walked to the side table and picked up a fork.

“Wait, not that piece,” Ron said as Harry pierced the cake.

Suddenly, a small shower of sparks burst from the cake in a dazzling display. As they fell back down onto the plate, the sparks formed words that lay sprinkled across the chocolate confection.

Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched the spectacle and read the words.

“Will you marry me?” he exclaimed. “Blimey, Ron, you didn’t tell me you were going to ask Mione to marry you!”

“I thought she should know first,” Ron explained. “But now I know I shouldn’t have tried to set something like that up all by myself.” He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “She says I humiliated her. What if she won’t forgive me?”

“Of course, she will,” Harry said. He knelt in front of Ron, giving him as much of a hug as the odd position would allow.

“Ron, I– oh.” Hermione walked in, stopping short. “What’s going on?”

Ron quickly stood, pushing Harry out of the way a bit. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

Hermione frowned. “Harry, what are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story. One I’ll tell you another time.” Harry stood. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As he passed Hermione, he kissed her cheek and wished her a happy Valentine’s Day. Before he stepped through the door, he turned to her.

“Oh, Hermione, try the cake.” Harry winked at Ron.

She harrumphed. “So, now you’ve got Harry in on it? I did come to apologize, but . . . are you even listening?”

Ron silently stood and retrieved the plate, handing it to her.

“I _don’t_ want any–” she gasped.

Fishing around in his pocket, Ron got down on one knee. He took Hermione’s left hand and began to slip a simple gold diamond solitaire ring on her ring finger.

“Wait, you haven’t asked me. You can’t just put a ring on my finger.”

Ron simply said, “Cake.”

“Well, I haven’t answered yet.”

With a confidence rarely displayed, Ron replied, “Your answer is yes.” He finished slipping the ring on and stood back up. “I love you.”

In that moment, all was forgiven on both their parts. He kissed her passionately, holding her tightly against him. She responded in kind. They tumbled onto the bed, hurriedly undressing one another. Hermione pulled away slightly to reach Ron’s belt and paused.

“For the record. My answer _is_ yes. And _not_ because you told me it was,” she smirked.

“Holy shit. We’re fucking engaged,” Ron suddenly shouted.

“Having second thoughts already?” Hermione’s brow furrowed.

“No,” he laughed. “I just realized that we’ll be able shag anytime we want without having to kick my roommates out when we’re married.”

As she continued to remove Ron’s trousers, Hermione reminded him, “There’s more to marriage than shagging. You know that, right?”

“Not at the moment,” he breathed, unclasping her bra and slipping his hands under the lacy cups. He paused. “Aw, you’re not going to lecture me, are you?”

Hermione smirked, “Not at the moment.” And she brought her mouth down on his stiffened cock.

“Oh, Mione,” Ron moaned. “This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

She opened her eyes and glanced down at her left hand. “Mm,” she answered.

hdhdhd

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room after leaving Ron and Hermione in the dormitory. He was tired of repeating the evening’s events in his head over and over. The one thing he hadn’t asked himself was what he would have done if he were in Draco’s shoes.

He wasn’t certain what he would have done. But he was certain that he didn’t like leaving things between him and Draco the way they were. 

Harry sat a moment, sending out his extra sensory magic link to Draco. It was still there. Closing his eyes, he could feel that Draco was down in the dungeons, most likely in his dormitory.

A quick glance at the clock told Harry it was almost ten o’clock. Late, but not too late to straighten things out. Not wanting to have an awkward first meeting in the classroom the following morning, Harry got up and resolved to find Draco.

When he got to Slytherin, he gave the password he’d given many times before. Never had he been quite so anxious. Draco had been so preoccupied with whether or not Harry would still want him, he never considered the real possibility that Draco himself would fall out of love without the game’s influence. Harry had not only considered it, it had become his biggest fear. He had no idea how Draco had spent the time since Harry had left him.

“Oh,” Pansy started when Harry appeared in the passageway.

“Is, is Draco here?”

“No,” Pansy answered.

Harry frowned. He was certain that Draco was in the dungeons. His first thought was that the connection was waning.

“He was,” Pansy said. “He just went to the loo.”

Sighing with relief, Harry sat on the couch next to Pansy and nodded a greeting to Tracey, who sat on her other side.

They made small talk, very small talk, for a couple of minutes. But Harry gathered up the nerve to address with Tracey the only thing he really had on his mind.

“I heard you and Anthony broke up.”

“Uh, yeah.” Tracey answered, frowning slightly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?”

Pansy shot Harry a look after he asked his question. He guessed she hadn’t mentioned the game’s true influence to Tracey.

Tracey shrugged. “We didn’t really have anything in common, I guess. I mean, he’s cute and all. But we didn’t have much to talk about.”

“Oh, then it was mutual?”

“Yes.” She paused. “Why all the questions?”

“Just curious. I’ve noticed several break ups lately,” Harry told her.

“People break up all the time. So what,” Pansy said. 

“Well, Anthony and I are still friendly,” Tracey said. “Our relationship just fizzled. Most teenage ones do, you know.”

She was right, statistically speaking. Harry hadn’t thought of that. He wondered if it wasn’t the game after all. Perhaps Pansy had been wrong about that.

“Yeah,” Tracey continued. “It was actually kind of weird. One day, we were snogging like crazy, and the next, it was over. We both just knew.”

“That’s odd,” Harry commented, not thinking it was odd at all, given the circumstances. “When was that?”

“I don’t know. About a week and a half ago, give or take a few days. Why?”

Before Harry could answer, Draco appeared in the passageway, coming to a dead stop when he spotted Harry.

“You came to see me?”

“We need to talk.”

Pansy nudged Tracey. “Come on, let’s go bug Theo.”

The girls left Harry and Draco for the other end of the common room. The boys didn’t have the privacy Harry wished they did, but no one appeared to be paying too much attention to them. Draco sat down in Pansy’s previous spot.

“Are you here to break up with me?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me. And I talked to Ron. He had some interesting things to say.”

“I’ll bet,” Draco said sarcastically.

“I thought maybe we needed a break,” Harry continued. “To sort out our feelings.”

“I don’t need to sort mine out,” Draco hastily replied. “I still feel the same.”

Harry put his hand up to stop Draco from saying anymore. “I know. You didn’t let me finish. I thought time apart would help us figure out if it’s real or not. But after talking to Tracey, I don’t think it’s necessary. I’m pretty sure that if it was just the game, we would have already lost it.”

Draco sat silent, allowing Harry to continue.

“I was angry with you earlier. And hurt that you didn’t trust in what we have. But . . .” He lowered his voice and looked around. “I still love you. I think I was confusing the anger I was feeling with my feelings for you. We’ve never really fought before.” Harry smiled. “Scratch that. I meant to say, we’ve haven’t fought since we got together.”

Draco’s brow furrowed. “But you said you talked to Ron. Surely, he was happy to tell you it’s all in your head and that you should break up with me straightaway.”

“Ron is surprisingly insightful sometimes. He actually _did_ say it was all in my head. But he meant it in a good way. And besides, all the couples that broke up, did it right away, as soon as the game ended.”

“So maybe the magic didn’t affect us because we already had those feelings?” Draco suggested.

“Yeah.” Harry blushed. “I was having dreams about being in your bed long before school even started this Fall.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Really? You never told me about that. Hmm. At least that was a good one that came true.”

Harry chuckled, “It didn’t start out that way. You cursed me in the first one.”

They stared at one another for a moment.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the beginning,” Draco offered.

“I’m sorry I walked out on you in those lacy pants,” Harry smirked.

He leaned forward and kissed Draco. What started out as a peck quickly escalated into all out snogging. Slowly and steadily, Harry pushed Draco onto his back on the sofa, and gently lay himself on top. Forgetting themselves, both boys began to grind against one another as Harry sank between Draco’s legs.

“Ahem, boys,” Pansy’s voice sounded from above them.

Disoriented momentarily, they looked up at her. They looked at each other and began to laugh.

“Perhaps we ought to find someplace more private,” Draco suggested.

“Your dormitory?”

Draco shook his head. “No, Blaise and Harper are there. How about yours?”

“I left Ron and Hermione in mine. I suspect they’ll be busy.”

“The usual then?” Draco grinned. He held Harry from getting up. “This is how it all started you know.”

Harry cocked his head, not understanding.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t remember, but you tried to take advantage of my drunken state at that second wand party.”

“I really wish I hadn’t been too pissed myself to remember,” Harry replied.

The pair left the sofa and the Slytherin common room to head for the Potions room. Draco lit a few of the lanterns with his wand.

“I’m sorry I got rid of all the beautiful decorating you did,” Draco told Harry. He raised his wand. “I can try to redo it.”

“Wait,” Harry said. “I have a better idea.” He took out his wand and conjured up the green sofa from the common room. 

“Let’s finish what we started.” Harry took Draco’s wand and placed both of them on a nearby table. He began to unbutton his shirt while Draco watched. Draco followed suit and soon both boys were nude, bathed in flickering candlelight.

Harry led Draco to the sofa and guided him to lie down. Gazing down upon him, Harry couldn’t imagine how he could have believed his feelings for the blond were not genuine.

“Tonight, I want to make love to you,” Harry whispered. Normally, Harry was the bottom, and he liked it that way. But on Valentine’s night, especially after their argument, he wanted to make Draco feel the way the Slytherin always made him feel. More loved than he had ever felt before.

Without words, for they were unnecessary, Draco opened himself up, both physically and emotionally for Harry. The room soon filled with the sounds of panting and groaning, and sweet nothings being whispered. They changed positions three times before settling into a quick rhythm. Bracing himself on the back of the sofa, Draco bounced up and down on Harry’s cock at a brisk rate while the latter stroked the pale pink cock in front of him. With his other hand, Harry gently pinched Draco’s nipples.

Draco moaned, “Oh, I’m so close.” He hurried his pace and threw back his head.

Harry watched him. It was immensely pleasing to Harry, knowing that he was the cause of the expression on Draco’s face. Any doubts he had at the beginning of their evening had long since vanished.

“Fuck.” Draco’s voice pulled Harry out of his musings. “Jack it, jack it,” he grunted.

Harry yanked on Draco’s cock and within seconds, he was covered in a viscous white mess. Draco stilled his hips and sighed heavily. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed. “Are you close?”

“I think if you move _at all_ . . .” Harry chuckled.

Draco grinned and ground his hips forward and back, squeezing his muscles around Harry’s cock. The brunet arched his back and let out a whimper as he grasped tightly onto Draco’s thighs.

When Harry relaxed and opened his eyes, he found Draco gazing adoringly at him. The blond smiled. “How could we ever have had any doubts that we belong together?”

“Never again,” Harry replied. Draco settled down on top of Harry and rested his chin on Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped his arms around his lover and clasped his hands, keeping him in place.

“When we leave here, you should come live with me,” Draco said casually.

“What? You want me to live in the Manor?”

“Well, yes.”

“I thought maybe you’d come live with me in Sirius’ old house. Technically, it’s your family home as well,” Harry explained.

“Oh. My mother has been lonely with me and my father gone. She’s been looking forward to me coming home.”

Harry frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess she would be.”

Draco leaned up a bit and smiled. “We don’t have to decide anything right now. We still have several months to figure it out.”

“You’re right,” Harry agreed. He didn’t want to live in a place where so much evil had taken place, but he couldn’t imagine not being near his love. He would have to hope he could convince Draco to move into 12 Grimmauld Place with him when they left Hogwarts.

It was getting very late, and as reluctant to leave as they were, it wouldn’t do for them to fall asleep nude in the Potions room to be discovered in the morning. The pair dressed, extinguished the lanterns, and vanished the sofa before leaving for their own dormitories. 


	29. mother's favor

February 15 1999 the early morning hours

Hermione and Harry stopped as they met up in the Gryffindor common room. Each blushed as they knew exactly what the other had been doing.

“So, you and Ron worked things out?” Harry asked awkwardly.

She nodded. “You and Draco as well?”

“Yeah.” He paused, expecting her to excitedly show him her new piece of jewelry. “Well, let’s see then,” he finally said and held out his hand to take hers.

“Oh, my, I’ve already forgotten,” she blurted out. “I mean, I didn’t forget. I just meant that it seems part of me already. Does that make sense?” Hermione held out her left hand displaying a modest ring with a simple cut diamond.

“It makes perfect sense,” Harry smiled. “Somehow, the pair of you make perfect sense.”

She smiled back, shaking her head. “I was so stubborn about that bloody cake that I ruined the moment for myself. He was so romantic about the whole thing.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “You missed a wonderful display. The way the little sparkles fell and spelled out the words. It was wasted on me,” he laughed.

“I fear I’ve ruined all future romantic gestures for myself,” Hermione said.

“I highly doubt that. If anything, Ron is going to try even harder to surprise you. He really is old fashioned at heart. Just look at his parents.”

“So, what about you and Draco? Did you have a fight earlier this evening too?”

“He lied to me about something. I suppose it was more like omitting the truth. But he confessed.” Harry frowned. “I wasn’t very understanding at first.”

“But you’ve worked through it. That’s the important thing,” Hermione cheerfully offered.

“Yes.” Harry grinned. “He asked me to move into the Manor with him.”

“Oh, Harry, you’re not going to, are you?”

“I don’t know. Apparently, you don’t approve.” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“It’s not my place,” Hermione said, as she often did when offering her opinion. “Could you really live in a place where . . . so many bad memories were made?”

Harry sighed heavily. “I’ve asked myself that very question. I really don’t know. Mione, I don’t want to live alone when we leave here. But you’re right, I don’t see how I can be comfortable living in the Manor where you . . .” Harry began to choke up.

She put her hand on his arm and rubbed slightly.

“I only want you to be happy, Harry. Perhaps, you and Draco can make new memories there. Don’t turn it down on my account.”

“It’s not only you. And besides, Draco had plenty of his own nightmares there. I’ve asked him to move into Sirius’ old house with me. But he feels compelled to live with his mother. For a little while, at least.”

“Then maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for the two of you to live apart while you sort things out. Eventually, find a new place to start fresh, one that doesn’t harbor bad memories for either of you.”

“That’s a good idea, Mione. I’ll think about it.” Harry yawned widely. “Better be getting to bed.”

“Good night Harry.” Hermione kissed his cheek and began to walk toward her dormitory.

“Goodnight future Mrs. Weasley,” he smiled.

Harry walked into his own dormitory to find three snoring bodies. He considered casting a spell to quiet them, then decided he was too tired to let a little noise keep him up. As he drifted off, he thought about Hermione’s suggestion. He liked the idea of Draco and him finding a place that was truly their own. That was what Ron and Hermione would most likely do, once they got married. He was happy for his friends, but he felt a twinge of jealousy that he and Draco would probably never get to marry. Not unless the British government and the Ministry miraculously became open minded enough to allow it.

As Harry slept, he dreamt of the boy and the girl again. He saw the blonde woman briefly but got a better look at the little girl. There was no doubt she was Harry’s daughter. The intense green eyes gave it away. Another boy, older than the others and also a ginger, made an appearance in the background just moments before Harry woke. He tried to will himself back to sleep, knowing it was futile.

Though the dream showed him a bit more of the puzzle, he was frustrated that he still couldn’t figure out the whole picture.

hdhdhd

March 6 1999

“Draco,” Harry nudged the blond as they walked toward the Great Hall. “Isn’t that Justin and Millicent? Are you sure you dismantled that game?”

Draco turned around to see Finch-Fletchley and Millicent Bulstrode snogging in a corner. He couldn’t help the sneer his lips formed. He didn’t find either one of them the least bit attractive.

“Gross,” Draco replied. “But I’m certain the game is finished. Eew, they must have gotten together on their own.”

“Draco,” Harry chided. “Everyone has the right to be loved. Don’t they?” He smirked.

“No,” Draco said coldly as he stared ahead of them at Terry Boot walking with Stephen Cornfoot and Mandy Brocklehurst on their way to breakfast. He clenched his fists.

Harry’s smiled dropped as Stephen turned his head.

As Harry and Draco continued to walk, Stephen slowed his pace and dropped back from Mandy and Boot. He stopped to wait for Harry and Draco to catch up to him.

“Oi, Harry,” he called.

“What do you want?” Draco spat.

“Nothing, I . . . I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened to you. I guess, what _almost_ happened to you at Ginny and Dean’s wedding.”

By this time Boot had also stopped and was watching.

“You almost got him killed. That’s what almost happened,” Draco fumed.

“I know. Dean told me. We didn’t mean for it to go that far,” Cornfoot explained.

“Speak for yourself,” Terry told Stephen. “I don’t give a rat’s arse what happens to these two.”

Mandy stood watching the scene unfold, not knowing exactly what was going on.

Stephen shot back, “We could have gotten Harry killed. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“One less queer in the world.” Boot shrugged.

Mandy stepped back. “How can you say that about Harry?”

Stephen turned back to Harry and Draco. “Well, _I’m_ sorry. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to apologize. It was supposed to be a prank. That’s all. Honestly, I don’t care what you do in private. I just went along with him.” He jerked a thumb in Boot’s direction. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

As Stephen walked past Boot, the larger boy had something to say. “Maybe you’re an arse licker too. Who needs ya? Better not come around me no more. I’ll bloody you up good.”

“Don’t worry,” Stephen answered. “I won’t come anywhere near you from now on.” Mandy began to follow him into the Great Hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Boot asked her.

Mandy narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m with Stephen,” she said and followed the other Ravenclaw.

Draco smirked as he and Harry walked past an incensed Boot. “Looks as though you’re alone in your convictions,” he snickered.

Boot reached out and grabbed Draco by the collar. He pushed him up against the wall. “You fucking little weasel. I’ll kill you.”

“I don’t think so,” Draco said smugly.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because Professor McGonagall is right behind you.”

Boot let go and jumped back. 

“Good one, Draco,” Harry laughed.

“Mr. Boot, in my office immediately!” The Headmistress ordered.

Harry turned and gasped. He hadn’t realized that Draco wasn’t bluffing. He stood, eyes wide as McGonagall literally grabbed a hold of Boot’s ear and dragged him to her chambers.

“I’ve never actually seen someone do that,” Harry commented. “I’ve read about it in stories . . . he’s twice as big as her.”

The pair of them burst out laughing. They continued to laugh as they walked to the Gryffindor table and sat down. When they finally composed themselves, they noticed Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Dean all gawking.

“What?” Harry questioned.

“Um, are you gonna sit here?” Ron asked Draco.

“Oh, I forgot,” Draco gave an embarrassed chuckle and began to get up.

“No. Stay,” Harry looked up at Draco, eyes pleading.

“But I don’t think I’m supposed to.”

“Everyone else gets to sit together,” Harry pointed out. “Please?”

Draco looked around to see if anyone noticed.

“Sit down,” Hermione smiled. “It’s all right. I don’t think anyone will mind.”

Hesitantly, Draco sat back down, and the six friends began to eat. Harry told the rest of them what happened with the Ravenclaws outside the hall.

Midway through the meal, Professor McGonagall returned and made her way to the head table. She glanced at Draco as she passed and did a double take. Pausing ever so briefly, she nodded and smiled at him. He was relieved that she apparently approved of his change in seating. 

For the remainder of the year, Draco split his mealtimes between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, without complaint from anyone. Including Terry Boot, whom they discovered had been expelled from Hogwarts. It seemed Harry and Draco were not the only recipients of his prejudice. Susan Bones and Stewart Ackerly had both made complaints about Boot harassing them. Boot’s threat against Draco outside the Great Hall had merely been the last straw.

Without their gang leader, the rest of students taking part in the harassment quickly slunk back into the shadows, leaving Harry, Draco and the others to finally live in peace.

hdhdhd

March 21 1999

“Why does your mum want you to come home?” Harry asked nervously, pushing food around on his plate.

“Not sure,” Draco answered, shoving another bite of egg into his mouth.

“You’re not worried?”

Draco shrugged as he chewed.

“Why are you worried, Harry?” Hermione questioned.

“I’m not worried, exactly. But, don’t you think it’s odd, that she wants to see you out of the blue?”

Turning to Harry, Draco gave a smile. “It’s not out of the blue. My mother has been owling me. I told you she wants me come back to live in the Manor when–” He cut himself short, realizing it was still a difficult subject for the pair of them. “Anyway, I’ll be back tonight.”

Harry smiled unconvincingly.

hdhdhd

Narcissa extended both of her arms toward her son. “Draco, darling. I’m so glad you came home.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“After all that’s happened with your father, I wasn’t certain if you would ever come home,” she confessed as she grasped his hands.

“As long as he’s not here,” Draco clarified. “And _you_ are.”

Narcissa smiled sweetly at her boy, then hugged him lightly. “I don’t want you to ever have to worry about that again. This will always be your home. I’ve made certain of that.” 

Draco pulled back. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s yours.”

“Mine?” Draco frowned. “I thought the only way for this house to be mine was by inheritance.” He scoffed, “I’m quite sure Father changed his will the moment he read Rita Skeeter’s article.”

Motioning Draco toward the sitting room, Narcissa explained, “He tried. Please, sit. Would you like some tea?”

“I’d love some.”

“Poppy,” Narcissa called out. A small house elf appeared by her side, wearing what looked to be a lamp shade. “Fetch us some tea, would you?”

“Yes, missus,” Poppy bowed and glanced nervously at Draco.

“You got a new house elf?” he asked. “What happened to Tinker?”

Poppy wrung her hands and looked back and forth between the mother and son.

“Tea, Poppy,” Narcissa said sternly, but smiled. Poppy disappeared with a small pop. “I let Tinker go. Your father acquired him. I never did trust the little sneak. Poppy is sweet and loyal.”

Draco chuckled. “I swear that bugger used to hide my wand. I don’t think it was a coincidence that it seemed to happen whenever Father was angry with me.”

“Yes. Your wand wasn’t the only thing to get misplaced,” Narcissa said cryptically.

Poppy appeared with a tray of tea and cups teetering on her tiny hands. Instinctively, Draco reached forward to steady the tray, then took it and walked it to the buffet. Poppy stood, knees knocking, and ears down.

“Forgive Poppy, Master Draco,” Poppy bowed. 

Narcissa watched as Draco walked to the petite creature. He crouched and straightened her lamp shade.

“It’s all right, Poppy. I can be quite clumsy myself.”

She looked at him with large rounded eyes. “Missus never call Master Draco clumsy. Oh, no.”

Draco leaned a bit closer. “Missus doesn’t know everything about me,” he winked.

Poppy chanced a small smile that dropped when Narcissa cleared her throat.

“That will be all, Poppy.”

“Yes, Missus.” She winked away, leaving Draco to pour out tea for himself and Narcissa. He carried a cup to her and sat down on the sofa with his own.

Narcissa accepted the cup and cocked her head. “I must say, though you look more and more like your father with every passing year, you are far different.”

“All right, Mother. Tell me what’s going on.” Draco sipped his tea. “Why would Father simply hand over the Manor to me?”

A small smile formed on Narcissa’s lips. “Well, there was nothing simple about it.” She took a drink and held her cup in both hands on her lap.

Draco waited patiently for her to elaborate, finishing his tea.

“I explained to your father that he was being hasty when he expressed his desire to cut you off. When you’ve outgrown this phase–”

“It’s not a phase, Mother,” Draco broke in.

Narcissa put her hand up. “I know. But as long as your father believes it is, you’ll be free of his wrath.”

Draco snorted. “No matter what I do, I’ll never be free of Father’s wrath.”

She smirked, knowing Draco was probably right. “That may be true. However, you are a Malfoy. You have a birthright. This is your home and I wanted to ensure that it would be your home in the future.”

“But how did you get Father to sign it over now, rather than via inheritance?”

Narcissa glanced about the room. “I may have blackmailed him.”

“With what? Wait, I don’t want to know,” Draco said.

“No, you don’t. Draco, your father is going to be in Azkaban a long time. And I want you to live here, if you wish.”

“I do, but . . . Mother, I’ve asked Harry to live here with me.”

Her eyebrow rose subtly in surprise. “Oh?”

“I mean, us. Of course, that is, if you wouldn’t mind,” Draco stumbled over his words.

“The Manor is yours to do with what you please. Even ask me to leave. I have no claim over this house,” Narcissa said.

“I would never make you leave,” Draco replied indignantly. “And you are not the reason Harry doesn’t want to live here.”

“So, he has turned you down? Maybe the boy has more sense than I thought.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s a bit soon to be making those sorts of plans between you. You’ve only been together a short while. Perhaps his lust for you is waning.”

“It isn’t lust,” Draco defended. “I love him. He loves me.”

A small gasp escaped Narcissa’s open mouth. While Narcissa had not exactly embraced her son’s passion for men, she believed that she understood and accepted it. Men, yes, but not that particular man. She had tolerated the affair thinking it would be short lived, burning out quickly once their youthful lust had been satisfied. She had told him as much when he first confessed to the relationship.

“Draco, I do not wish the boy ill, but neither do I believe he the best match for you. Surely you can see that.”

“Based on what, exactly?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your tumultuous history, for one. Have you forgotten what he did to you Sixth Year?”

“No, of course not.” His postured mimicked hers. “We’ve talked about it. All of it. He has apologized, as I have, for all of our past . . . foolishness. Harry says that he thinks we’ve always been attracted to one another. We simply didn’t know how to express it. So, to keep each other’s attention, we fought.”

Narcissa smirked and relaxed her stance a bit. “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t be the first pair to start out at each other’s throats,” she laughed. Being in Slytherin, she had seen many a relationship begin precisely that way.

“We’ve changed, both of us, for the better. Like it or not, Mother, Harry and I are going to be together forever.”

She reached out and stroked the side of Draco’s face. “It’s so easy to believe that when you’re young. And you’re _so_ young.”

“It isn’t just something I believe. I_ know_ it. Mother, Harry and I are bound.”

She pulled her hand back. “What? That can’t be.”

“It’s true. Our magic is bound together, forever.”

Narcissa’s teacup fell to the floor, shattering, as she stood.

Poppy appeared at the sound of breaking china.

“Is Missus all right? Poppy will clean up.”

“Thank you, Poppy, but we’re fine,” Draco replied. “I think it’s best if you let us tend to it.” He urged the house elf to leave before his mother became too irate and took it out on her.

“No. That’s impossible. You’d need an officiant, one skilled in same sex binding.”

“Mother, calm down.” Draco placed his cup on the floor before joining his mother.

“What unscrupulous officiant would bind two young boys? You tell me who it was.” Narcissa was furious. Not only had he gone and done something permanently stupid, he’d done it with his former archenemy. She was going to have the head of the unethical, immoral and disreputable officiant who performed the ceremony. And if it happened to be a man, she’d have his bollocks as well.

“It was Harry,” Draco whispered, more like, mouthed the words.

Narcissa leaned closer. “What?”

Taking a huge breath and releasing it, Draco answered, in a slightly higher volume, “It was Harry. He inadvertently started the whole thing. Then my magic responded and completed the bond.”

Standing statue-like, mouth open, Narcissa stared at her son. She couldn’t possibly have heard correctly. In her lifetime, she’d never heard of such a thing happening.

“Spontaneous binding?” She asked quietly.

Draco nodded. “Yes, that’s what the Healer called it. He said he’d never seen a case himself. But he had heard of it happening.”

Sinking slowly back into her chair, Draco’s mother seemed utterly deflated.

“Mother, are you all right?”

Ignoring his question, she had one of her own. “And, this makes you happy?”

“Oh, yes. It’s as though Harry is always with me. Not literally of course. But if I concentrate, I can feel him. Like now, even being far apart, I can feel that his magic is strong. It’s a comforting feeling. And the sex . . .” he said, forgetting himself.

Narcissa looked away.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Mother.” When she gave no response, he questioned, “What’s wrong?”

When she returned his gaze, he could see a glistening around the edges of her eyes and a sadness that broke his heart.

She took his hand in hers. “Draco darling, all I’ve ever wanted is your happiness. If this makes you happy, then I accept it. If Harry loves you that much, you hold onto him. Hold on with everything you have and don’t let go.” She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “But Draco, make sure you love him back equally. There is little worse than loving with all your heart and getting nothing in return,” she warned.

He wanted to ask if she was speaking from first-hand experience, but he knew deep down, it wasn’t necessary. His parents had not engaged in a binding ceremony themselves, and Draco wondered if it had been because of his father’s lack of commitment to Narcissa. He’d seen Lucius humiliate her with his dalliances. Her melancholy expression gave away her pain.

“I will. I do. I won’t waste this chance I’ve been given.” He embraced his usually rather stoic mother, who, in return, hugged him fiercely. He now better understood her dispassionate nature as likely self-preservation. In the wake of his own joy, his heart ached for her.

“Thank you, Mother.” They parted and she brushed the hair from his forehead as she did when he was a child.

“I don’t think I’ve told you often enough how very much I love you,” she smiled.

“I love you too.” The words that were once foreign and unsettling to him were now liberating. Thanks to Harry, he was no longer afraid to show his vulnerability. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to go against your father during the war. I’ll do all I can to make it up to you.”

“I never blamed you.”

“We should have just run away, before the Death Eaters took over,” Narcissa suggested.

“They would have–” he suddenly gasped. “Death Eaters.” Draco grasped his mother’s forearm firmly and grinned excitedly. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

She couldn’t help grin in return, not having a clue why. Draco pushed the left sleeve of his jumper up to the elbow. Narcissa stared for a moment, the bareness of his arm not quite registering at first.

“Draco, I don’t . . .”

He cocked his head and gave his mother a look as if to say ‘seriously?’.

Finally comprehending what it was she was seeing, or more precisely, not seeing, Narcissa cried out.

“What happened? I don’t understand. No one has been able to completely purge the Mark.”

“Harry did it. Well, the Healer is pretty sure he did. He just couldn’t figure out how. It happened when we, uh, during the binding.” He hadn’t given his mother the details about their binding ‘ceremony’, but the memory of it made him blush nonetheless.

“Amazing,” Narcissa marveled. She looked Draco in the eye. “Perhaps I was wrong. It seems that Harry Potter is a perfect match for you after all. I suppose it can’t be mere coincidence that the two of you ended up together.”

“No. It was fate,” he smiled.

Draco left the Manor with a spring in his step. He hadn’t realized just how much his mother’s approval would matter to him. Ironic, he thought, that he had spent his whole life trying to win his father’s favor, when his mother had been willing to give it freely. He vowed never to take her for granted again. And he would do whatever necessary to secure her happiness.

hdhdhd

Later that evening, Harry and Draco sat on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room, an open book between them. Harry’s left hand rubbed lazy circles on Draco’s thigh as they studied their Herbology lesson. Over the course of the evening, Harry let his head lean slowly down on Draco’s shoulder.

“Potter, are you paying attention?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Leeches.”

Draco chuckled softly. “We were on lovage.”

“Oh.” Harry snuggled closer. “Sorry. I’m tired of studying.”

Draco closed the book and tossed it aside. Ron, who was sitting on the floor with Hermione, perked up when he saw that.

“They’re finished. Can’t we be finished too?” he whinged.

Hermione was loath to admit that she was also growing tired of studying. So, she sighed dramatically for effect.

“I suppose we’ve studied enough for now.” She carefully closed her book, keeping her place with a parchment scribbled with notes. Hermione glanced at Harry and Draco, and smiled. Seeing them as they were at that moment, made her almost forget that their previous rivalry had ever existed. She watched as Harry gazed up at his lover, who was mesmerized by the flickering fire.

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asked quietly.

Not wanting to eavesdrop on the pair, Hermione turned her attention to Ron. He more than happily accepted it.

Meanwhile, Draco kissed Harry’s forehead. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Hmm. I _wasn’t_ worried, until you said that. Are you thinking about your visit with your mother?” Harry sat up a bit straighter. “Did she _really_ give us her blessing?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes. Everything I said was true. I swear.”

“But? Is there something you _didn’t_ tell me?”

Shifting on the couch, Draco exhaled. “Yes. But I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you.”

“What is it?” Harry nervously asked.

“It’s really not a big deal,” Draco began. “My mother mainly wanted me home to tell me that the Manor is mine.”

“Yours. What am I missing? Hasn’t it always been yours?”

“I mean, mine alone,” Draco explained. “My parents signed it over to me. My mother, willingly. My father was coerced, by my mother.” The corner of his mouth rose at the thought of his mother getting the best of Lucius.

“And you didn’t want to tell me because . . .”

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to you to feel obligated to come live with me.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Obligated? I _want_ to live with you.”

“Just not at the Manor.”

“I . . . don’t know,” Harry said honestly.

“Which is why I didn’t say anything.” Draco leaned further into Harry. “I haven’t even decided if _I _want to live there.”

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Harry questioned, “You haven’t? I didn’t know there was any question.” Harry saw the opportunity to bring up Hermione’s suggestion about their living situation. “You know, we could find a place of our own. It would be somewhere we could start fresh, with no painful memories. As much as I loved Sirius, his house feels . . .”

“Like your enemy?” Draco finished.

Harry laughed. “I haven’t thought of it exactly like that. But, yeah, sort of. I’m pretty sure Kreacher hates me and the portrait of Walburga Black must constantly be covered or she yells at me.”

“That, paired with the atrocities that took place in my family’s home, makes a fairly convincing argument for finding a flat of our own,” Draco commented.

A wide smile grew on Harry’s face. “Really? You would want to do that?”

“Mother will be disappointed,” Draco said. “But I think she will understand. Although, it’ll definitely obligate us to visit her often,” he smirked.

Harry was happy that Draco agreed that finding their own place to live was a good idea, but he felt slightly guilty that the Malfoy heir would be giving up the home in which he had grown up. Giving up Sirius’ sinister former home would not come as a hardship to Harry. He had only held onto it for sentimental reasons.

Hugging Draco tightly, Harry tried to convey his appreciation. “Thank you. It’ll be great. You’ll see.”


	30. check, mate

May 28 1999

“Crikey, Ginny! You look like you’ve swallowed a watermelon. And that waddle.”

Ginny glared at her brother. “I’m not that big.”

“You do waddle a bit, love.” Dean kissed her cheek as she sat down at the table for lunch. “But you look radiant.”

“No, I do look like I’ve swallowed a watermelon,” she pouted.

“That’s a good thing, Gin. That means the baby is healthy,” Harry smiled.

“I suppose,” she grumbled. “I don’t know how I’m going to last another seven weeks like this.”

“Just think, in seven weeks you’re going to have a baby,” Hermione said dreamily.

Ron sat up straight. “No.”

“What? I didn’t even ask a question.”

Harry giggled.

“And what are you laughing at?” Ron queried. “You already know you’ve got brats on the way.”

“What?” Ginny’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just a dream, Gin. I haven’t gotten anyone pregnant or anything.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“A dream confirmed by Olivia Tifft,” Draco chimed in. “He’s going to have two children, a boy and a girl. The boy is a ginger.”

Harry sighed. “So _she_ says.”

“When?” Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. “Who knows? _If_ it’s true, and that’s a big if, as far as I’m concerned, it could be far into the future.”

“Or the very near future,” Draco added.

Ginny looked down at her belly and rubbed it. “You don’t think . . .”

Harry furrowed his brow. “The healer said it isn’t mine, Ginny. I trust him.” Changing the uncomfortable subject, Harry asked Ginny, “Where do you and Dean plan to live when you leave here?”

Ginny grumbled, “Mum’s insisting we live at the Burrow until Dean can secure a steady job with the Ministry.”

“That’s smart,” Hermione said. “Unfortunately, Ron and I may have to do the same. But not until we’re married. Although, Ron has been accepted into the Auror training program,” she beamed.

“Yeah, even before the N.E.W.T.s,” Ron chuckled. 

“Good thing,” Harry laughed. “When they see your results, they may have second thoughts.”

“What about you Harry? Have you heard yet?” Hermione questioned.

“I haven’t applied for Auror training.”

Everyone at the table, save Draco, gaped at Harry’s revelation.

“You’re not going to be an Auror?” Ron pouted. “I thought we were going to go through it together, mate.”

Harry shook his head. “I considered it. But I’ve applied for an apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s instead.”

“To become a Healer?” Ginny asked, incredulous. “Since when?”

“Since I’ve decided I want to help people.”

“But you have,” Hermione said. “You’ve saved the wizarding world from the ultimate evil.”

“I don’t want to be the hero of the wizarding world, famous for one thing I’ve done. I want to help people in a real and personal way. And possibly to heal the Death Eaters the way I did with Draco. The only way to figure out how, is to work with the Healers.”

“That’s very commendable, Harry,” Hermione smiled. “I hope you’ll be happy doing that. I, myself, am slated to begin work in the Ministry in August. I’ll be working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department to start.”

“Mum’s trying to get us to plan a wedding before then,” Ron added. He jerked a thumb toward Hermione. “But _someone_ thinks it’s not enough time.”

“It’s not,” Ginny said. “Ours was so quick, we didn’t get to have all the lovely extras. And it was so small. Take the time to plan it right. It should be the happiest day of your lives.”

Draco glanced at Harry, who looked down at his plate.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” Ginny apologized.

“It’s all right, Gin. Not your fault.”

“Besides,” Draco smiled. “It’s like we’re married already. I don’t need a silly ceremony for that.”

Harry gave a small smile back.

Quickly redirecting the conversation, Hermione asked Draco about his plans after Hogwarts.

“I’ve won an internship with a Potions Master in Diagon Alley. In three years, I’ll become a Master as well. And after working on a Master level two more years, I can apply for my certifications and open up my own shop if I choose.” He turned to Harry. “And then you’ll purchase your healing potions from me.”

“There’s good money in Potions,” Ron commented. “I wish I was better at it.”

“I’m not in it for the money,” Draco defended.

“Yeah, I guess you don’t really need it. Why work at all?” Ron asked. “If I had all your money, I wouldn’t work.”

“Ironic that having things handed to me on a silver platter has taught me the value and worth of making one’s own way. Having to struggle seems to have taught you the opposite.” The snide remark left Draco’s mouth before he could sensor it. Ron was clearly insulted as evidenced by the small tight line of his mouth.

Wanting to smooth things over, Harry opened his own mouth, but was at a loss for words.

“I apologize,” Draco offered. “I tend to have a rather large chip on my shoulder when it comes to my family’s fortune, a fortune that I have done nothing to supplement. And my intention is to do nothing to take away from it. My father has made his feelings about me clear and I will not accept his financial assistance, regardless of my birthright.”

“Oh,” Ron merely said.

“I understand that you believe a comfortable life is an easy one. In some ways mine was. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the many toys and fine clothing I received. But if I could have traded my family’s fortune for the love an acceptance that you have in abundance, I would. Treasures come in all forms, and sometimes we don’t fully realize what we have. I took money for granted because I had it. You probably took your family for granted as well.”

Ron sheepishly nodded. He had wished over the years not to have so many siblings taking up space or resources in their home. He had been embarrassed by hand me down clothing and wands, and had been secretly envious of Draco, though, he would never have admitted it. He was surprised that the Slytherin all but admitted he had been jealous of Ron.

“Well then, it looks as though we’re both getting what we’ve always wanted,” Ron smiled. He turned to Hermione. “And we get to keep what we already had.”

“I’d say we’re all bloody lucky,” Harry raised his glass of pumpkin juice.

The others clinked glasses with him and one another and drank. The food and drink began to disappear suddenly.

“I suppose that means supper is over,” Harry laughed.

Draco stood and extended his hand across the table toward Ron. “Are we all right?” he asked tentatively.

Ron looked at the hand stretched out in front of him. The others had all begun walking out, leaving him and Draco alone. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He shook Draco’s hand. “Are you always so formal?” he laughed. “I mean, Harry and I argue about stuff all the time. I guess we just assume that when we’re finished, we go back to being friends.”

Draco frowned. “Oh. I suppose Blaise and I do the same.” He glanced around the emptying Hall. “To tell you the truth, I don’t always know where I stand with you.”

Pursing his lips together, Ron smiled apologetically. He knew he often gave mixed signals or made comments suggesting that he was less than thrilled to have Draco so entrenched in Harry’s life. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s still sort of a bit strange for me, you know?”

“Yes, I _do_ know,” Draco nodded. “I sit at the Gryffindor table for Merlin’s sake.”

Ron laughed heartily at that. “I reckon that must be strange for you.” His smile faded. “But, seriously, I have to admit, this thing between you and Harry seems to be working. And you did try to save my life. I guess you’re not so bad after all.”

“High praise,” Draco smirked.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t be above trading the occasional insult.”

“Of course. No need to be completely civil,” Draco grinned. “As long as we have an understanding.”

Ron nodded in agreement. The pair walked out of the Great Hall together. Before parting ways at the staircase, Draco turned to Ron.

“Harry tells me you’re a fair chess player.”

“That’s rich. He only called me fair? He’s pants at it.” Ron chuckled.

“No, actually, he said you were very good. A match for me, in fact.”

“Hmm. Is that a challenge?” Ron smiled.

“If you think you’re up for it.”

“Absolutely. Name a time.”

Draco thought a moment. “Tonight, half-eight? Gryffindor House.”

“Great,” Ron said. “I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it,” Draco said and walked down the stairs toward the dungeons. He smirked to himself. He’d go easy on the ginger, so as not to embarrass him in front of his friends too much. How good could Weasley possibly be?

hdhdhd

Draco walked into his dormitory to change out of robes. He was glad it was Friday.

“Oh, fuck,” he said out loud to himself. “What was I thinking, making plans with Weasley on a Friday night?”

“You have plans with Ron?” A sleepy voice came from the other side of the room. “Did you and Harry break up too?”

Startled by Harper, Draco whirled around.

“Not _those_ sort of plans,” Draco said, indignantly. “Just to play chess. And what do you mean, _too_? Who else broke up?”

Harper looked away and slumped back down onto the bed. Draco stood trying to decide if he really wanted to get involved in a conversation with Harper in his current state. Clearly, he and Blaise had broken up. He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. He was definitely hanging around the Gryffindors too much.

“What happened?” he asked Harper, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“He, he . . . he just said it wasn’t going to work out,” Harper sobbed.

Draco bit his lip. He really didn’t have any idea what to say to Harper. He and his friends didn’t typically comfort one another through break ups. Then again, he and his friends were usually the initiators of the break ups. Draco remembered Blaise telling him that he and Harper would only last until the end of school.

“Did he say why?” Draco asked.

Harper sat up and faced Draco, wiping his eyes. “B said that we’d be going in different directions after leaving here, and there was no point trying to carry on.”

Draco’s nose wrinkled at Harper’s nickname for Blaise. He never thought it suited Zabini. “Well, maybe he’s right. I mean, Blaise is planning to move to Romania to work with dragons, and you’re . . . what_ are_ you planning to do?”

Harper shrugged. “I was going to work at my family’s vineyard in Wales for a while. But what I really want to do is open a salon. A classy, upscale salon, not like the places in Diagon Alley. I was even thinking about going to a muggle school for cosmetology.”

“Huh?” Draco had no idea what cosmetology was. “Is that some sort of space science?”

Harper laughed. “No, it’s like taking care of hair and skin for clients who come into the shop.”

“Like the barber? There are already two in Diagon Alley.”

“Not like _them_. I want to do make up and modern hairstyles. That’s what witches want nowadays. Like Parvati. I did her hair.”

Draco shrugged. “I didn’t notice.”

Shaking his head and laughing softly, Harper simply said, “Men.”

“The two of you have such different career paths. Perhaps Blaise is merely being realistic,” Draco suggested.

“Actually, we don’t. B is only going to work with dragons because one of his brothers is. I don’t think that’s what he really wants to do,” Harper began to explain. “He came home with me a few times and took an interest in the vineyard.” Harper laughed mirthlessly. “My father was pleased to have a ‘man’ to mentor. Even though I had been working summers for several years. Anyway, Dad taught him about different kinds of wine. B was such a quick study, Dad offered him a job.”

Draco nodded. “Blaise always did have a nose for wine. We would sneak down to our wine cellar and he managed to pick out the best wines for us to get pissed. Wait, your father offered him a job at the vineyard?”

“Yeah, but he turned it down,” Harper said. “I thought it would be great, the two of us working together this summer. And then, out of the blue, he says he’s going to Romania.” Harper began to get teary-eyed. 

When the waterworks started, Harper clutched onto Draco, who sat stiff and uncomfortable. Draco wanted nothing more than to get out of there, but he tried to put himself in Harper’s shoes. Blaise, like Draco, was sometimes aloof and appeared unfeeling. Not necessarily a good match for someone like Harper, who wore his heart on his sleeve. But obviously, there had been something there, or the two of them wouldn’t have lasted as long as they did. 

Draco was reminded of the many times he, himself flew off the handle over minor incidences. He was particularly good at pouting. Harry always managed to forgive him and give him the benefit of the doubt. As a result, Draco became more forgiving himself. He made Draco a better person in the long run. Perhaps Harper was exactly what Blaise needed.

Feeling a bit of empathy for Harper, Draco brought his arms around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“Maybe he’ll come around,” Draco said softly.

“What’s all this?” Blaise’s voice echoed through the room.

The boys broke apart, Harper scrambling to get away from Draco. Draco merely remained as he was, he had done nothing wrong.

“Moved on already, now, have you?” Blaise asked Harper accusingly. “I knew you didn’t mean it. And you,” he directed his gaze toward Draco. “Potter doesn’t keep you busy enough? You have to come sniffing around my leftovers?”

Draco snorted. “I am _not_ sniffing your leftovers. I was simply comforting him after you carelessly discarded him.”

“Ha! You, comforting someone. Since when do you give a shit how anyone else feels? You and Pansy, you both think you’ve changed or something. I know deep down inside, you’re both still a couple of self-centered Slytherins to the core. As soon as we leave this place, you’ll go back to your old ways.”

Draco hissed at Blaise. He’d come a little closer to home than Draco preferred. His biggest worry was that the changes in him were temporary.

“Looks like you’ve already begun to slip. You always did want to have whatever I had.”

“No, B, this isn’t what it looks like at all,” Harper sniffed, wiping furiously at his eyes. “Please. I love you.”

Draco’s eyes widened at Harper’s confession.

Blaise, however, remained unaffected.

“So you’ve said. And yet, I find you in the arms of my best friend mere hours later.” Blaise turned on his heel and walked out before either Harper or Draco could respond. Harper threw himself back onto the bed dramatically.

“Now what am I going to do?” Harper cried into his pillow.

Rolling his eyes, Draco attempted to calm him down.

“Blaise knows nothing was going on. He knows I would never cheat on Harry. He was just being a prat.” Going over the conversation in his head, Draco frowned. “That wasn’t the first time you told Blaise how you feel, is it?”

Harper shook his head. “No. I . . . we were talking about the summer. I was chatting up the job at the vineyard, trying to convince him to come with me. He was still deciding what to do. His heart just wasn’t in dragon keeping.” Harper fidgeted with his fingers. “I sort of blurted it out.”

“And was that when he told you he was going to go to Romania?”

Harper nodded. “I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t feel the same way. And now he’s trying to get as far away from me as possible.”

Draco smiled to himself. Things were starting to make a bit more sense to him. Blaise had never expected his relationship with Harper to last beyond Hogwarts. Then suddenly, there was the possibility of something real, a way for them to continue and flourish together. And Harper had laid his heart on the line. Draco knew Blaise well enough to predict his reaction– panic. Draco knew all too well, it was easier to shield oneself from potential pain than to take a risk and become vulnerable.

“Let me talk to Blaise,” Draco said.

“You’d do that?” Harper sat up. 

“I’m not guaranteeing anything. Maybe he’ll at least talk to you.”

“But why?” Harper asked. I didn’t think you particularly liked me,” 

Draco smirked. “I don’t really like anyone,” he winked. “But you’ve grown on me. And I think you’re good for Blaise, in a way.”

Harper watched Draco leave, hopeful that Blaise’s best friend would somehow get through to him.

hdhdhd

Draco found Blaise on the Quidditch pitch gearing up for a solo practice.

“Oi, Zabini! Care for some competition?” Draco shouted as he approached his fellow Slytherin, broom in hand.

“Interesting choice of words, seeing as you were horning in on my territory,” Zabini shot back.

“Please,” Draco rolled his eyes. “You know damn well there was absolutely nothing to that. And besides, you broke up with him, so he’s fair game.” Draco gave a sideways glance.

Blaise pursed his lips and snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“See, I knew you cared,” Draco smirked. “Now why don’t you tell me what this is really about.”

“Nothing,” Blaise shrugged. “I’m off to Romania, he’s off to Wales. End of story.”

“You conveniently left out the part about you being offered a job in Wales.”

Blaise looked up, shocked that Draco knew that bit of information.

“Harper told me everything. Including his confession.”

Blaise remained silent as he finished putting on his Quidditch ensemble. Draco also began putting on protective gear, intending to fly with his teammate.

“You gonna make me guess what’s going on?”

Blaise shrugged a shoulder. “I told you.”

Pulling on his gloves, Draco began his interpretation of what was going on.

“You know what I think?” He continued without waiting for Blaise to respond. “I think you were _this close_ to having a real, lasting relationship with someone, and it scared the shit out of you.”

“Fuck you.”

Draco laughed. “Is that the best you can come up with? I all but called you a coward.”

“Are you _trying_ to make me hurt you? Because I’ll be happy to,” Blaise said as he grabbed a fistful of Draco’s shirt.

“Then tell me I’m wrong.”

Blaise let go and stepped back. He pulled on his gloves in a huff. Getting on his Nimbus 2001, Blaise pushed off and flew away from Draco. The blond jumped onto his much newer Firebolt and gave chase. The pair took turns pursuing one another, weaving through the towers around the pitch. Occasionally, they would find themselves over the lake or among the turrets of the castle.

When Draco got close enough for Blaise to hear him, he yelled, “You can’t put me off forever!” He grinned and headed down toward the castle entrance.

Reluctantly, Blaise followed. He was loath to continue their conversation, but he was getting tired. In silence they landed and dismounted. Draco began to remove his equipment, but Blaise just stood, appearing to be deep in thought.

“Hello? Zabini?” Draco waved his hand in front of his friend’s face.

“What?” Blaise frowned.

“You still haven’t told me I’m wrong.”

Blaise let out a heavy breath. “You’re wrong.”

“Liar,” Draco accused. “I’ve seen you two. He’s not the only one in it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Blaise tried to walk into the castle. Draco blocked his way.

He narrowed his eyes at the other boy. “You’re a cold-hearted bastard. But even you aren’t that good an actor.” Draco softened his stance, but still wouldn’t let Zabini pass. “Just tell me. At the very least, explain it to _him_. You owe him that much.”

Blaise stared at Draco a moment. “I don’t know how. Not without hurting him anyway. This way, he can be brassed for a while, then get over it.”

“Is this one of those ‘_I’m doing it for his own good_’ bullshit stories?”

“It’s not bullshit,” Blaise protested. He looked down at the ground. “I’m not out yet,” he said quietly. “Not to my family.”

Draco snickered, “But everyone here knows.”

If looks could kill, Draco would have been toast.

“But nobody can prove it. And besides, if and when I do tell my family, how can I bring home such a flamer?”

“Maybe your family won’t mind. He’s practically a girl anyway,” Draco laughed. The remark earned him another scornful look.

“It’s not fucking funny. I don’t want to end up like you, basically disowned.”

Draco sent his own searing glare. “My mother has come ‘round. And I don’t care what my father thinks.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Look, our families aren’t that different. Well, other than the fact that you _have_ a father. But I mean, the traditions and all. Mum has even begun shopping around for a bride for me. She’s trying to make the best deal, for me supposedly.”

“Blimey, you’re not going to go through with it, are you?”

“I don’t want to. But she’ll really disown me if I don’t. Believe me, my two older brothers didn’t want to either. Mum threatened them with cutting off support. And . . . it didn’t turn out so bad for them. I’ve got a niece or nephew on the way.”

Shaking his head, Draco smirked. “Oh, grow some bollocks, would you. You have a job prospect. One that you got all on your own.”

“Yeah, but, I’d be giving up a fortune.”

“Go ahead then, get stuck with some rich bint you don’t love or even like. You’ll be led by the nose for the rest of your life, for money. You’ll sacrifice your happiness. For money.”

“Money used to mean a great deal to you.”

“I found something better,” Draco told him. “Besides, if I can give up family fortune, anyone can.”

Blaise laughed. “Yeah, no one has ever been spoiled more than you, Malfoy. You won’t last five minutes without Daddy’s money.”

“Yes, I will,” Draco defended. “Because I’m happy.”

“So what. I’m always happy.”

“Well, I haven’t been. Not until this year. And I’m not giving it up for anything. Especially not money.” Draco paused. “You could be happy, too. Truly happy. If you wanted.”

The boys regarded one another, the unspoken bond of friendship between them. Draco wanted Blaise to be happy. He cared deeply for his friend, though the words he had just spoken were about as close to declaring his feelings out loud. Blaise had stuck with Draco when others had abandoned him, and their bond would last a lifetime.

In a matter of seconds, the moment was gone. But Blaise had gotten the message. Draco cleared his throat.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go bond with Weasley.”

“And you said _I_ would make sacrifices,” Blaise laughed.

“Yeah, but then I have a date to screw the hell out of my boyfriend. And he’ll be oh-so-grateful that I’m making an effort with his friends.” He grinned and winked. Blaise mimed sticking his finger down his throat. 

As he walked into the castle, Draco turned and shrugged, “I’m in love. You should try it.”

hdhdhd

“Checkmate. Again,” Ron smirked from the other side of the table. Draco scowled at him.

“One more game. And this time I’m not going to go easy on you.” Draco began setting up the board.

“Nah, I’m tired,” Ron said, stretching his arms over his head. He wasn’t especially tired. In fact, he was quite wound up from the games he played against Draco and he needed to burn off some of that adrenaline. Preferably, with Hermione.

“Draco,” Harry whinged a bit. “You can play again another time. It’s almost eleven o’clock,” he said, hoping his lover would get the hint on that Friday night.

“Come on, just one more?”

“We’ve already played twice,” Ron said. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

Draco snorted through his nose and pouted. “I let you win. You know that, right?”

Ron laughed. “I don’t think so. No way in hell you would ever let anyone win. I don’t think you would even let Harry win.”

“Well, of course I did! He’s no good at chess.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “You _let_ me win when we played?”

“Uh . . .” Draco just realized what he’d said. “Harry, I . . . okay, yes, I let you win. But only because I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

Harry continued to pout. He decided to milk it as far as he could.

In an effort to make Harry feel better he offered, “But you did play well. I didn’t have to make too many mistakes.”

Harry turned away from him.

“Aw, Harry, don’t be like that.” Draco put his arm around him. Harry’s shoulders began to shake a little. Draco rolled his eyes, making sure Harry couldn’t see. “Are you happy Weasley? Now he’s cry–” Draco looked where Ron had previously been standing, but he was gone. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, realizing that he was laughing, not crying.

“You set me up,” Draco deadpanned.

Harry smiled. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Draco grinned widely. “You better.”


	31. happy birthday

June 14 1999

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” Hermione cried as she looked about the Gryffindor common room. “This has been our second home for so long, I don’t know if I can bear to leave it.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Mione, it’s not like you didn’t know this was coming. Aren’t you excited to get on with our lives?”

“Yes, but . . .”

Harry smiled. “As much as I loved it here, I’m ready to move on. I think Draco and I found a place in Diagon Alley to live.”

“You did? Where?” Ron questioned.

“Above the apothecary where Draco is to apprentice.”

“Speaking of Draco, where is he?” Hermione asked. “I thought we were all going to go to Hogsmeade to celebrate having done well on our N.E.W.T.s.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. He should have been here twenty minutes ago.”

“Do you think everything is all right?”

Harry closed his eyes and reached out magically for his love. A smile formed on his face as he sensed him nearby. “He’s fine,” Harry said. “But there is something . . . not wrong, but unusual.”

Just then Draco burst into the room, Neville by his side.

“Ron, come quick!” Neville shouted, out of breath. “It’s Ginny.”

Draco bent over and rested his hands on his knees trying to catch his own breath. “McGonagall took her to St. Mungo’s. She wants you to contact your family.” He continued to pant.

“What happened?” Ron panicked.

Still gulping for air, Neville waved his hand. “She’s fine. It’s the baby. It’s coming.”

“So soon?” Hermione asked. “Ron, floo call your parents straightaway.”

“McGonagall left her office open so you could use the floo network from there,” Neville told him. Ron quickly ran out of the common room.

“How did you find out?” Harry asked Draco.

“Neville and I just happened to be coming back from one of the greenhouses. Professor Sprout said we could take some cuttings with us to start our own herb gardens,” Draco explained. “I’m going to set up a terrarium in our place so I can have fresh herbs for potion making,” he told Harry excitedly.

“Yes, Draco, but what about Ginny?”

“Oh, right. So, we were coming back into the castle when we see Thomas flailing his arms frantically and shouting down the hall.”

“Ginny was sitting on the floor clutching her belly and crying,” Neville added. “Next thing we knew the floor was all wet and Dean asked us to run up and get McGonagall.”

“Yes, disgusting. That’s a sight I hope never to witness again. Anyway, that’s why we were so out of breath,” Draco said. “We had to run up to get her then ran here to tell you.”

Hermione gently put a hand on Harry’s arm. “Harry, it’s awfully early.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Mione,” he replied.

“But what if it’s not early? What of the baby is coming right on schedule?”

Draco looked back and forth between them, the wheels in his head spinning along with Hermione’s. “She’s right.”

“No, she isn’t. Babies come when they come. Sometimes they’re early. This baby isn’t mine. Maybe Ginny and Dean didn’t wait to have sex as long as they said,” Harry suggested.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Draco sighed. “Let’s go to St. Mungo’s.”

Harry and Hermione both nodded.

“As soon as Ron is finished, we’ll all go together,” Hermione said.

hdhdhd

“How much longer do you think it will be?” Draco asked, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder as they sat in chairs in St. Mungo’s waiting room.

“Dunno,” Harry answered sleepily.

The pair, along with Ron, Hermione, and most of the Weasley clan, had been waiting for the past three hours for news of Ginny’s baby. Dean periodically made an appearance to tell them ‘not yet’.

When he strolled into the waiting room one more time, scarcely any of them even lifted a head.

“It’s a boy,” Dean proudly announced.

Suddenly awake, the small crowd rose to their feet and began offering congratulations. Hermione glanced at Harry. She knew the older child in his dreams was a boy.

“What’s his name?” Fleur asked.

“Leo. Actually Leonard, but we’ll call him Leo for short. Leonard Arthur Thomas. We used my father’s middle name and of course, yours sir,” Dean said as he shook Arthur’s hand. “My parents aren’t here yet? I owled them hours ago.”

“They have to take public transit, dear,” Molly reminded him. “They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

Dean shook his head. “I suppose I’m lucky they accept my owl. They won’t take any wizarding ways into the home. I tried to give them a portkey that would take them here instantly, but they refused.”

“You know how muggles can be,” Molly smiled. “Oh, look,” she said, peering over Dean’s shoulder. “There they are.”

Dean ran to his mother and stepfather to share the good news with them.

Molly turned to Arthur, “Let’s see if we can get in to see Ginny.”

A Healer walked out just then.

“Ginny is asking for her parents,” he smiled.

“That’s us,” Molly squealed. “Can we see her? Can we see the baby? How are they doing?”

“They’re both fine,” the Healer assured her. “The boy’s a bit on the small side. But that’s to be expected for one so early.”

While the Weasleys gathered near the Healer to hear about the baby’s health, Harry made his way over to Dean and his parents. Loath to interrupt, he waited patiently for them to part. Draco appeared by Harry’s side as Dean’s parents went to greet the Weasleys.

“Dean,” Harry held out his hand. “Congratulations. It is congratulations, isn’t it?”

Puzzled, Dean cocked his head. “Sorry?”

“The baby. It really is yours, right?”

“Oh,” Dean relaxed. “Yeah, unless you’ve got some nappy headed relatives hiding in your family tree.”

“Nappy headed?” Draco questioned. “You mean it has hair like yours?”

“Yes, _he _does,” Dean replied.

Harry sighed, relieved that there was no longer any question of the paternity of Ginny’s baby. He would have to wait to find out about his own children, the same as anyone else.

“Come on, Draco, let’s leave the family to their celebration.”

“Gladly,” Draco smiled.

The pair flooed from St Mungo’s to McGonagall’s office where they informed her that both mother and baby were doing well, and that Ron and Hermione had decided to stay at the Burrow for the evening.

Upon leaving the Headmistress’s office, Harry brought up their plans for moving in together.

“We should probably go to the apothecary tomorrow and see about that flat. Don’t you think?”

“He said he wouldn’t rent it out until we decided,” Draco reminded him. He smiled. “Are you anxious?”

“I’d just like to put it in writing,” Harry said. “I’ve found a renter for Sirius’s house and if our flat falls through, I’ll be homeless,” Harry laughed.

“All right,” Draco chuckled. “We’ll go tomorrow and sign the lease.”

Harry clutched onto Draco’s hand as they walked the hall toward Gryffindor. He couldn’t imagine things going more perfectly than they were.

hdhdhd

June 15 1999

Harry could hardly contain himself. He and Draco looked over the flat above the apothecary and he found it to be even better than he remembered. He walked to the window and gazed out over the alley. It was relatively early so it wasn’t as bustling as would be later in the day. Harry couldn’t wait to wake up there every morning next to Draco.

“Are you sure?” he asked his love. “This is what you want too, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, this is great. All I have to do is walk downstairs for work,” Draco assured him. “I really do like it. It’s a bit smaller than I’m used to, but that’s all right.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t want to talk you into this. It has to be right for both of us.”

“It is. Harry, this _is_ what I want. I love to see you happy, and I can see that this makes you really happy. So, it makes me happy. I love you.”

Hearing those words from Draco at that moment quelled any doubts Harry had. He was happy. Happier than he had ever thought possible.

“I always hated those damned peacocks anyway,” Draco laughed. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?”

Shaking his head, Draco smirked. “Nothing. My father keeps, I mean kept, white peacocks. They’re the ultimate pureblood status symbol.” He rolled his eyes. “Quite rare and expensive. But if I moved back into the Manor, I would have gotten rid of them. For some reason, though, Mother loves them, so now she’ll be able to keep them.”

“Peacocks? _White_ peacocks?”

The impatient Apothecary fidgeted by the door, holding a parchment and quill. “Well?”

“Of course,” Draco strode to him. “We’ll take it.” He took the parchment and quill and walked to the desk.

“No, we won’t.”

Draco looked up. “What?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Harry said. “I don’t want to live here with you.”

The Apothecary glanced about the room awkwardly as the room fell silent. Draco froze, quill poised over the contract.

Harry made his way to Draco and gently took the quill out of his hand. He shook his head. “This isn’t right. Not for _both_ of us. Draco, let’s move into the Manor.” He turned to the Apothecary. “I’m sorry, Master Orlov. I didn’t intend to waste your time.”

Orlov gruffly answered, “If you don’t want it, I have others waiting. No skin off my nose. But I need to get back to my shop.” He left Harry and Draco alone.

“Why did you do that?” Draco asked, incredulous. 

“Because I love you. I think it’s the Manor in my dreams. And the birds, they’re white peacocks. We’re meant to live in the Manor, I just know it.”

Draco placed his hands on either side of Harry’s face and kissed him. As willing as he had been to move into the small flat, he was grateful Harry had changed his mind.

When they broke apart, Harry grinned. “Don’t get too excited. We’re keeping the peacocks.”

hdhdhd

June 16 1999

“He’s beautiful, Gin. Just beautiful,” Harry beamed as he cradled baby Leo in his arms.

“Thank you, Harry. But Dean did have something to do with it.”

He looked up from the small bundle. “Oh, yeah, of course. But I think he looks more like you, aside from the coloring.” He gazed back down at the baby, a soft smile on his face.

Dean and Draco walked into the hospital room with drinks and a sandwich for Ginny from the canteen. She held her hands out and wiggled her fingers.

“Yes! Real food.” She quickly unwrapped the sandwich and began to eat. “The food they serve in the rooms is horrid. I don’t know why they can’t just give me something from the cafeteria all the time.”

“It’s probably how they get people to want to leave,” Draco snickered.

“Well, if it is, it works. Good thing I’m out of here tomorrow,” Ginny said, laughing. “They just want to make sure Leo’s in the clear before releasing us.” 

“Is there a problem?” Harry asked, concerned.

“No. It’s only because he came so early,” Dean explained. “So far, he’s perfectly healthy.”

“He is perfect,” Harry commented. He looked to Draco. “Do you want to hold him?”

A quick look of panic overtook his face. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure? If you’re worried you’ll drop him, you could sit in a chair and I’ll hand him to you.”

“That’s all right. You look like you’re enjoying it. You keep him,” Draco said.

“Really? There’s something relaxing about holding a baby. Are you certain you don’t want to? It’ll be good practice.”

“Good practice for _what_? I don’t intend to be a father for–” Draco clamped his mouth shut, realizing what he was saying. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

“Oh,” Harry said quietly. He walked to Dean and handed him his son.

“Harry,” Draco began. “I was going to say, ‘for a long time’. I’ve never really been around children. I don’t particularly like them. I can barely tolerate the First and Second Years,” He tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a cough.

Ginny and Dean awkwardly glanced at one another. Clearly, the conversation Harry and Draco were having would have been best carried out in private.

“I thought you were all right with the fact that I’ve got children in my future.”

“I am,” Draco assured Harry. “I’m only hoping it’s not too soon. I’m not ready to be a parent. But you seem to be,” he pointed out.

Harry looked at Leo snuggled in Dean’s arms. “I suppose I wouldn’t be upset if it happened sooner rather than later. It’s not as if I’m going to go looking for it though.”

In an attempt to break the tension, Ginny spoke up. “You’re welcome to babysit any time, Harry,” she smiled.

Harry laughed. “Maybe when he’s a tad older. I don’t if I’m really ready for the realities of a newborn.”

“You and me both,” she said. “I’m glad I’ll have Mum to help me. Us.” She looked up at Dean. 

Harry was happy things worked out the way they had. Ginny and Dean were truly a good match. As anxious as he was to find out about his future children, he was thankful the baby was Dean’s. It would have been a complicated life, sharing a child with another family, no matter how close friends.

“We ought to get going,” Draco suggested. “I may not know anything about babies, but I know exhausted parents when I see them. We should let Ginny rest.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry agreed. “We’ll miss you on the train, you two.”

“I know,” Ginny pouted. “We’re missing our last chance.”

Harry walked to her bedside, leaned over and kissed her forehead. “We’ll come visit at the Burrow. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for the two. I mean, the _three_ of you.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She put an arm around him and pulled him a bit closer. She whispered into his ear. “Go easy on Draco. He’s a young man with plans for a future. Don’t push him into a family. Remember, he hasn’t had the best family life. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

Harry pulled back and smiled at her. “You’re right, Gin. You always were so smart.” He stood upright. “Dean, good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.”

Draco also said his goodbye, and the pair of them walked down the hall toward the exit in silence.

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Harry finally spoke.

“It’s all right,” Draco said. “I don’t mean to be so unenthusiastic. There are just so many things I plan to do before I settle down.”

“I understand.” Harry stopped walking. “I really do. I have plans too. For us.”

“It doesn’t mean I won’t be ready for a family, someday. Whatever form that family might take.”

Harry hugged Draco. He was grateful to have a partner so accepting of him. A future with Harry would be unpredictable. And possibly subject to more prophetic dreams. But Draco was willing to take on the challenge.

“Ah, Harry,” a voice called from down the hallway. “You’re not beginning your apprenticeship already, are you?” Healer Cummins held out his hand to shake.

“No, sir,” Harry answered, taking the Healer’s hand. “We were visiting Ginny and Dean with their new baby.”

“Ah, yes, I saw that they had come in,” Cummins nodded. He extended his hand to Draco. “Glad to see the two of you are still together. Any problems or concerns about your binding?”

“No, not at all,” Draco said. “In fact, I’ve never felt better since it happened.”

“Good, good,” Healer Cummins smiled. “As it should be. It really is an incredible experience. Or so I’ve heard. I’m not married myself.”

“Yes, it is incredible. I highly recommend it,” Draco suggested, wriggling his eyebrows slightly.

Harry blushed at Draco’s innuendo. “We must be going. We don’t have much time before we leave Hogwarts for good.”

“All right. I look forward to seeing you here Harry,” Healer Cummins said as he dashed away.

Harry and Draco used the hospital’s floo network to get back to Hogwarts. They had but two days remaining to pack up for their last trip ever on the Express.


	32. at the close

June 17 1999

“I thought for certain the two of you would have gotten back together by now,” Draco commented as he sat waiting for the end of the year feast to begin. Blaise, sitting across from him, scowled.

“Come on boys, this is our last feast ever at Hogwarts. Don’t ruin it,” Pansy whinged.

“_I’m_ not ruining it,” Blaise said. “He’s the one who keeps harping on it.” He pointed at Draco. “No pun intended.”

Rolling his eyes, Draco replied, “I’ve only mentioned it twice.”

“Actually, I thought you’d be back together too,” Pansy added.

“What do you care, anyway?”

Pansy sighed. “Because you’ve been all mopey ever since you broke up with Harper.”

Draco nodded in agreement.

“And once you leave Hogwarts, it’ll only get more difficult to renew your relationship. What if he meets someone else?” Pansy asked.

Blaise looked up sharply.

Pansy put her hands up. “Sorry. I’ll drop it, I promise.”

Food and drink suddenly appeared on the table, and the students began to fill their plates. Draco secretly wished he was sitting at the Gryffindor table. With Blaise bringing the mood down, Slytherin was no fun at the moment. He attempted to change the subject.

“I never did ask, Pans, how did you do on your N.E.W.T.s?”

“Ooh,” she squealed. “I passed them all! Three Acceptables, three Exceeds Expectations, and one Outstanding.”

“Brilliant,” he smiled. 

She laughed. “Who knew studying would actually pay off?”

“Then, what are your plans? Now that you’re no longer planning to shag your way through life,” Blaise asked bitterly.

Draco and Pansy both glared at him.

“At least I seem to be handling a lack of shagging constructively,” Pansy pointed out. “Anyway, I’ve decided to continue working with magical creatures.”

“You’re going into dragon keeping, too?” Blaise questioned.

“No. Not dragons. I’m going to raise kneazles.”

“Ha. what do you know about raising kneazles?” Blaise scoffed.

“I got an Outstanding in the Care of Magical Creatures,” Pansy defended herself. “I’ve gotten a position at Magical Menagerie for the summer. Then I’ll go from there to be a breeder on my own.”

“I’m happy for your Pans,” Draco offered. “You always did have an affinity for the animals.”

She nodded, then turned to Blaise. “So, you’re still going to Romania? Even though you’d much rather be a vintner?”

“I can’t bloody well take a job working for my ex’s family, now can I? And I don’t want it to seem like I’m getting back together with him in order to get the job.”

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Draco smirked. “You _do_ want to get back with Harper.” He glanced down to the end of the table where Harper had taken to sitting since the breakup. Pansy and Blaise followed suit. Harper appeared even more miserable than Blaise.

Blaise closed his eyes and cradled his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I want. Mum has found a bride for me already. She’s actually quite nice, as far as girls go. And filthy rich. We could have our own vineyard, if we want. I could have an easy life.”

“A loveless life,” Pansy added.

“And what about her?” Draco queried. “Are you content to doom her to a loveless marriage as well?”

Blaise lifted his head, his brow deeply furrowed. “You think I haven’t thought of that?” He laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve considered asking her for an arrangement, an open marriage. She could have any bloke she wants, and I could have . . . but it wouldn’t be fair to, uh, our outside partners, I suppose.”

“Not to mention that you’d have to confess your orientation to her. Unless you can keep it a complete secret. But we all know how well secrets are kept,” Draco said, remembering how difficult it was to keep his relationship with Harry a secret. “And if you tell her, you may as well tell your family.”

“I can’t think about this anymore,” Blaise said, standing, without eating any of his supper. “I have some last-minute packing to do.” He left abruptly without another word.

“I wish there was something we could do to help him,” Pansy sighed.

“He has to figure it out for himself. We can’t force him to do something he’s not ready for.” Draco looked back at Harper. “I just hope it’s not too late when he is ready.”

Pansy noticed a shadow and she looked up to see Theo Nott looming over her.

“Yes?” she asked.

“It’s our last night at Hogwarts,” he said, stating the obvious.

She gave Draco a brief look before addressing Theo. “And?”

Draco was prepared to intervene with an excuse. If he was correct in guessing Theo’s purpose for the visit, Pansy would need one.

“And I thought maybe we could spend some time together before the trip back home.”

“Some time together,” Draco muttered sarcastically.

“Theo,” Pansy began, “I’m really trying to get myself together, you know, break some bad habits.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Theo said. “I really mean just spend time. I’ve seen you in a new light this year and well, I think I’ve taken my studies a little more seriously after seeing how well you’ve done. And, I remember you saying one time that it would be nice just to talk. I swear, I won’t try to bonk you.”

Draco turned in his seat. “Do you mean a date?” he asked incredulously. “A _real_ date?”

“Yeah.” Nott looked at the skeptical pair. “Pretty stupid, huh?” he said. “Never mind.”

Pansy stood. “No, it isn’t stupid at all.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, along with Theo’s.

“But, I still have things to do tonight to get ready to leave. Are you taking the Express in the morning?” she asked.

“It’s the last chance. Yeah, I’m taking the train,” he replied.

“I’ll save a seat for you in my compartment.”

Theo grinned. “All right. It’s a date then.” He turned and briskly walked back to his own seat. He finished his meal, the smile never leaving his face.

“What on earth are you and Nott going to talk about for the entire trip back?” Draco questioned as Pansy sank back down in her seat.

Pansy shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll find out that we have nothing to talk about. But maybe we’ll find out that we do. Maybe I’ll find out what it’s like to have a normal relationship, instead of bed-hopping.”

“Blaise told me once that he thought we hadn’t really changed our ways. He said we’d fall back to our old Slytherin habits. I know he said it out of anger, but I still couldn’t help wonder if he was right.” Draco turned around and caught Harry’s eye at the Gryffindor table. Harry gave a small wave and a smile.

“He’s wrong,” Pansy said. 

“I know. You just proved it.”

hdhdhd

June 18 1999

Harry watched the scenery go by, as he had on numerous trips back and forth between Hogsmeade and King’s Cross Stations. Ron, Hermione and Draco talked about their future plans, including Ron and Hermione’s wedding.

Growing ever more anxious about going to Malfoy Manor, Harry hadn’t heard when Ron continuously called his name. A gentle hand on his cheek brought him out of his trance.

“What’s wrong, luv?”

“Huh? I’m sorry.” Harry looked at his concerned friends. “I guess I’m a bit nervous about starting out on my own. On_ our_ own.”

“Are you sure you’re not nervous because of my mother?” Draco asked.

Harry smiled sheepishly, “Maybe a little.”

“It’ll be all right. Mother really does support us.”

“I know, but that was in theory. I wonder how she’ll feel about seeing us together. Every day.”

Draco patted Harry’s knee. “Don’t worry so much.”

Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and gazed out the window again. His future seemed set and yet wide open at the same time. He worried how the decisions he made now would affect that future. How would he know which choices would lead him to the children and which would lead him further away?

“Harry?” Draco whispered. “It’s not just my mother, is it?”

Harry shook his head. “I wish I’d never found out about those kids. I’m second guessing everything I’m doing.”

“Including me?” Draco asked softly.

Sitting up abruptly, Harry answered, “No. Of course not. You’re the only thing I don’t doubt, as ironic as that may be.” Harry smiled gently. “I’ll be fine. Once we get settled, I’m sure I’ll feel better.”

“Are you still upset by what I said in the hospital?”

Harry gave a questioning look.

“About not being ready for a baby,” Draco clarified. “You know, your dreams never showed them as babies.”

“No, the children were more or less the same age in all the dreams. Why?”

Draco debated voicing his opinion, not wishing to upset Harry further. But he’d brought it up and it was too late to backpedal.

“Did you ever consider the possibility that you won’t have these children until they’re older?”

“You mean when _I’m_ older.”

“No, I mean, what if they already exist?”

Hermione and Ron glanced over at Draco’s last comment. They had been trying not to eavesdrop, but Harry and Draco weren’t exactly being quiet.

“You’re mad,” Ron said.

Ignoring Ron, Draco addressed Harry. “You’ve been with other girls, haven’t you? Before Ginny?”

Harry looked across the car to Ron and Hermione. “Yes,” he answered, embarrassed to have his former sex life discussed publicly. “You think I got one of them preggars? Or _two_ of them?”

“Is it a possibility?” Draco asked.

“I suppose anything’s possible,” Harry replied. “There was a girl in Little Whinging, right before Sixth Year. But, I wasn’t careless.”

“It was just a thought,” Draco said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He rested his hand on Harry’s knee.

“Even if for some reason the johnny failed, it would only account for one of the kids,” Harry explained. “I never got that far with the other girls that summer. The little girl in the dreams is a few years younger. I would have to shag someone right about now in order for the timing to be right.”

“All right. It was just a thought,” Draco reiterated. “Let’s table it for now.”

Saying nothing in reply, Harry resumed gazing out the window. He said nothing more than a few words at a time the rest of the trip to King’s Cross Station.

Narcissa was not waiting for them at the station, and Harry took that as a bad sign. He and Draco gathered their luggage and apparated to the Manor.

Standing at the gates, Harry was filled with more conflicting emotions than he thought possible.

“You all right?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

“I think you’ll find that it looks quite different from the last time you were here,” he assured Harry.

Draco waved his hand and the gate shimmered into a state of vapor, through which the pair were able to walk. Behind them, it solidified once again. Harry glanced back, suddenly feeling trapped.

“I’ll set the wards to recognize you as well,” Draco smiled, sensing Harry’s trepidation. He took hold of Harry’s hand and led him to the front door. “Come on. Mother’s waiting.”

When they stepped over the threshold and into the unnecessarily large foyer, Harry’s eyes widened. The Manor did indeed look quite different. He dropped his suitcases and gaped at the warm and inviting coffee tones of the walls and sparse furnishings. A quick click, click, click on the ceramic tile flooring told him Narcissa was on her way.

“Draco, darling,” she smiled as she came into view. She quickened her pace and reached out for a hug.

Draco gladly returned it. He noticed that since his father had been banished to Azkaban, his mother had become more affectionate. Not overly so, but more.

She pulled away and looked at Harry. It was the first time the two of them had come face to face since the forest. Though technically, he didn’t actually see her that time.

After a brief awkward moment, Narcissa smiled. “Welcome, Harry.”

“Thank you,” he bowed slightly.

“What am I saying,” her voice lilted. “I am no longer the lady of the Manor.”

“I suppose I am now,” Harry chuckled.

Draco laughed out loud, and his mother, though she tried her best to refrain, could not help but join in.

The tension sufficiently diffused, the three of them made their way further into the home. Narcissa showed them the newly reappointed sitting room, dining room and the glass enclosed solarium, which left Harry in awe. He mentioned that it would be the perfect place to enjoy morning tea. Narcissa said she would tell Poppy to serve breakfast in the solarium in the morning.

“Mrs. Malfoy, please don’t make any changes for me. I’m sure I’ll adapt quite well here.”

“Nonsense. Breakfast in here is a wonderful idea. And please, call me Narcissa.”

Harry looked to Draco.

“Better do as she asks,” Draco teased. “She can be a witch when she doesn’t get her own way.”

Poppy appeared with a small pop, bowing low. “Missus, supper is ready in the dining room.” The tiny elf looked up at Harry with wonder. “Forgive Poppy for asking, but will Mr. Harry Potter allow Poppy to call him Master?”

“Yes, Poppy,” Narcissa answered. “From now on, Harry will also be your master.”

Poppy dropped to her knees. “Poppy never thought she would have such a person to serve.”

“Get up, please,” Harry urged her. “I’m no different than any other wizard.”

“Yes, Harry Potter was a friend to Dobby. Harry Potter is _not_ like any other wizard.”

“Did you know Dobby?” Harry asked, kneeling down to the elf’s level.

The House Elf nodded sadly. “That is why Poppy wishes to serve Harry Potter.”

“How about being my friend instead?”

Narcissa opened her mouth to say something about the impropriety of the situation, but Draco put a hand on her arm.

“He’s never really had a House Elf, except for the one at Grimmauld Place,” Draco whispered. “I can tell you now, he won’t expect anyone to serve him. He’s simply not like that.”

Narcissa softened. “I suppose that’s part of his appeal.”

“Yes. That and many other things, you’ll soon find out.”

hdhdhd

After supper, the boys retired to Draco’s room. Well, Draco did. Harry stood uncomfortably outside the door.

“Are you going to stand there all night? Or are you going to come in?” Draco laughed.

“You don’t feel funny about sharing a room in your mother’s house?”

“For one, it’s _my_ house. And for two, she knows we’ve been sharing a bed for months. What’s the difference?”

Harry scratched his head. “I don’t know. It just seems . . .”

“Harry, come to bed. It’s our first night living together. You don’t want to spend it in the hallway, do you?”

Slowly, Harry walked into the room. It was decorated in rich hunter green and silver, clearly reflecting Draco’s House colors. Though dark, the room was anything but drab. The shiny satin walls and bed coverings reflected the candlelight from the silver sconces lining the walls. A sheer covered picture window and French doors leading to a balcony let in the moon light, making the room all the more inviting.

Draco went into the bath attached to the room, leaving Harry alone to explore. He opened a drawer in the night table, then closed it quickly. 

“What am I doing? I can’t snoop,” Harry said to himself.

He took a deep breath and looked around. Harry decided to see if there was a drawer in which to put his clothes. Then it occurred to him that this was Draco’s room and he was searching for a place to fit in.

So certain that this was the right thing to do before, Harry now stood with a stack of folded shirts in his hand, feeling a bit like an outsider.

“I figure we could go out this weekend and buy some new furniture, completely redecorate,” a voice said from behind him. “Unless, of course, you’d _like_ to spend your life feeling like you’re back in Slytherin.”

Harry turned around to find Draco standing in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a smile.

“Personally, I’d rather not,” Draco said. “I’m ready to move on.” He twirled an oversized silver ring around his finger. “So, are you going to help me with this. Or are you going to do laundry?”

Harry immediately dropped the clothes.

hdhdhd

Bang. 

Bang. 

Bang. 

Bang.

Each thud of the bedpost was accompanied by a moan and a grunt. And the sound of skin slapping skin.

Harry’s knuckles were white, clutching onto the headboard as he knelt before it. 

He adored the way Draco lovingly caressed his skin. The way he kissed Harry tenderly. The way they connected emotionally through the bond. The way Draco made him feel revered and cherished.

But sometimes, Harry just wanted to be good and fucked.

Draco pinched at Harry’s nipple as he pounded into him from behind, over and over so hard that Harry almost lost his balance. His other hand tugged roughly at Harry’s cock. A sticky layer of sweat covered both their bodies, adding to the smell of sex filling the room. They’d been at it for what seemed like days.

“Oh, Draco please,” Harry panted.

“Please, what, my love?” Draco groaned.

“I _need_ to cum. Please take it off.” Harry barely breathed out.

Draco mumbled a spell and the tight leather cuff surrounding Harry’s cock and bollocks dropped off. Blaise certainly did know a number of handy spells.

Two or three more quick strokes had Harry spilling out load after load of spunk over the mattress, headboard, and Draco’s hand.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Draco,” Harry moaned.

“Ah, I’m gonna cum even with this thing on,” Draco hissed. He bit down on Harry’s shoulder as he came, as intensely as he ever had, continuing to thrust inside Harry’s arse. When Draco was finally spent, he lay on top of Harry. Harry’s knees gave out and the pair of them collapsed onto the satin covered bed.

Draco kissed the spot he had bitten in the throes of passion.

“I’m sorry. Too rough?”

“No such thing,” Harry replied.

Rolling off to the side, Draco reached across the bed for his wand. He gave it a flourish and cleaned up the bed, and the two of them, then removed the silver ring that had been restricting his bollocks. Afterward, they lay tangled up in each other and silky sheets.

“I hope you’ll be happy here,” Draco said, looking up at the ceiling. “This is _your_ home too now. I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I just need a little time to adjust,” Harry told him. He watched Draco’s profile silhouetted against the moonlight sky.

“We don’t have to stay in here. There are many other bedrooms. Though, I think this one has the best view.”

Harry smiled. “Whichever room you’re in has the best view.”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to Harry. “Been saving that one, have you?” he laughed.

“Okay, that _was_ corny. But it’s true,” Harry said. “This room is fine.”

“How about blue?”

“Sorry?”

“For the room. No green or red. So, how about blue? With lavender accents.”

“Lavender? Really?”

Draco snickered. “I always wanted it that color. It’s very soothing. But my father would never hear of it.”

“Then, lavender it is,” Harry grinned. Then he yawned loudly.

“I suppose we ought to go to sleep,” Draco suggested.

“As tired as I am, I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” Harry said.

“Is it the bad memories of here, from the war?” Draco asked, frowning.

“No,” Harry giggled. “I’m excited to go furniture shopping.”

“Now you’re just making fun.”

Harry grinned, “But I really am excited about starting our life.”

“Me too.” Draco kissed Harry’s cheek and snuggled closer to him.

Despite his excitement, Harry fell asleep within a matter of minutes.

hdhdhd

June 19 1999

Harry stretched and yawned after a peaceful night’s sleep. Draco was still dozing next to him, so he carefully got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and t-shirt. Stealthily making his way out of the room, Harry stepped into the hallway and realized that he really didn’t know his way around the Manor.

He stood looking down two hallways, unsure which to take. Suddenly, Poppy appeared before him.

“Master Harry is finally awake,” she smiled demurely. “Poppy has been waiting to serve you.” She bowed to him.

“Poppy, please, you don’t have to bow to me. I’d prefer you didn’t, actually.”

“How may Poppy serve you then, Master Harry?”

Harry laughed. “Well, you could help me find the solarium, for starters.”

“Gladly, Master Harry. Come this way.” 

Poppy led Harry down one of the hallways–not the one he would have picked–and down the staircase. They turned right and walked through the dining room, which Harry remembered from the day before, down another short hallway and finally to the solarium. Narcissa was already sitting at a round, wrought iron table, eating scones and sausages.

“Master Harry has come to join Missus,” Poppy announced and bowed to Narcissa.

“Good morning,” Harry said awkwardly.

Narcissa smiled at him. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Harry answered taking a seat across from her.

“Poppy, could you fetch us some more tea?” Narcissa asked the waiting House Elf.

“Certainly, Missus.”

She winked away leaving Harry alone with his new . . . Harry wondered how to refer to Narcissa. She wasn’t precisely his mother-in-law, but he supposed it was probably the best way to describe their relationship.

Narcissa took a sip of tea, then looked Harry directly in the eye.

“Forgive me for being so bold, Harry, but I need to know what your intentions are.”

“My intentions for what?” he asked.

“My son, of course.” She took another sip. “Despite his appearance, he is really a very sensitive soul. He’s not as tough as the image he projects.”

“I know, Narcissa. I know him very well. If you’re doubting my commitment, I can assure you that I am devoting one hundred percent to this relationship.”

“I understand though, that this sort of relationship is new to you.”

“By ‘this sort’, you mean homosexual?”

She nodded.

“Draco is the first . . . no, I mean, the _only_ man I’ve been with. He’s the only man, or person, I’ve ever been in love with. The only person I ever will be. I won’t hurt him, I promise.”

The house elf popped back into the room with fresh tea and more scones. Sensing the tension, Poppy placed the tray on the table and quickly disappeared.

Narcissa smiled. “That’s good to know. But what I was really getting at was how the wizarding world is going to view the pair of you. So far, knowledge of your relationship has largely been second-hand information in the Prophet written by Rita Skeeter.”

“We don’t care what people think.”

“Well, you should,” she said. “Other people can make your lives miserable if they choose.”

Harry was surprised by her words. He thought she would have advised them to be themselves and not care about the wizarding world.

“There are plenty of homosexual witches and wizards out there. No one kicks up a fuss about it. Why should we worry?” Harry asked, becoming a bit defensive, and worried that Narcissa didn’t really support them as Draco believed.

“You misunderstand, Harry,” Narcissa began. “I’m not talking about your homosexuality. I’m talking about the Chosen One shacking up with a Death Eater.”

“_Former_ Death Eater,” Harry corrected.

“The son of a prominent Death Eater,” she added. “Either way, it’s not going to sit well with either side. There will be those that will feel it’s their business. They will harass you, provoke you, and attempt to torment you. Are you really ready for that?”

Draco emerged from the doorway.

“Mother, are you trying to scare Harry away?”

“No, certainly not,” she defended. “But you must realize that things will be difficult for you in public. At least for a while.”

Draco sat down and poured himself a cup of tea.

“Are you suggesting we not go out into the public? Do you think we can live here in the shelter of the Manor the rest of our lives?” Draco sipped his tea and took a small bite of scone. “You know, Professor McGonagall told me the same thing once. She told me there would always be people like Terry Boot out there.”

“She’s right,” Harry agreed. He shrugged, “But what can we do?”

“McGonagall said the best revenge was living well. Or something along those lines.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, we should live our lives the way we want and be happy. We shouldn’t hide. We shouldn’t have to.” Draco grinned, “I’m happy and I plan on living my life out loud.”

Harry held up his teacup in cheers. “I agree.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Narcissa said, casually taking a sip of tea. “Draco, dear, would you mind terribly putting up a silencing spell tonight?”

Draco couldn’t even begin to count the many shades of red Harry’s face turned.

hdhdhd

July 6 1999

Having a few moments to himself, Harry sat in a wicker chair on the balcony of his and Draco’s bedroom. He had to agree that the view was magnificent. Not only were the grounds of the Manor expertly tended, the countryside beyond was breathtaking. Gently rolling hills, fields of red poppies, and a picturesque village in the distance greeted Harry every morning. Despite Draco’s distaste for the albino peacocks, Harry enjoyed watching them strut about the yard below among the gardens and the fountain, from which the sound of gently lapping water soothed Harry. Occasionally, birds would frolic and swim in it and Harry longed to join them. He could imagine Narcissa’s face, however, if he ever actually jumped in, and chuckled to himself. A gentle breeze blew, carrying with it the scent of the burnt orchids, which had just begun to blossom. Harry particularly liked them for their light lemon fragrance.

He opened the journal he had brought out with him. The last few entries were written while back at Hogwarts, concerning N.E.W.T.s and the impending birth of Ginny and Dean’s baby. Most of the entries centered around difficulties or worries. He found that he usually forgot to write when his life was going well. But he decided he wanted to chronicle the happy times as well as stressful.

_ I have moved into the Manor with Draco and Narcissa. I was nervous at first, but Draco’s mother has been welcoming. Draco and I have completely renovated his childhood room to make it our own. It was much easier to compromise than I expected._

Harry paused to see if the journal would change anything. He felt he was being honest with himself, so he was pleased when nothing changed.

_I will begin my internship at St. Mungo’s in two weeks. Ron is still a bit upset with me for not joining the Auror program, but I know this is the right path for me._

Again, he paused. No change. He smiled to himself.

_My life is finally of my own making, just as I want it. I am content._

The word _content_ disappeared.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Harry said to himself. “So what am I not content with?” he asked the journal.

He mentally listed every aspect of his life he could think of–his love life, his living situation, career, friends. Everything seemed in order to him. He truly was satisfied with the direction his life was taking, except for one the thing that concerned him. It was something over which he had no control; Draco’s desire for a family, or lack thereof.

Harry sighed. “Fine,” he told the journal. “I’ll write it. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it, other than wait for him to decide.”

Harry had to admit that it had been in the back of his mind that possibly, Draco would never be ready for a family. He had no idea what would happen to the pair of them in that case, since, for Harry, it was an inevitability.

_I worry that Draco will never want children. But I want very much to be a father. And I still don’t know who the mother will be._

“Okay, journal, work your magic,” Harry said sarcastically. Slowly, eight words and the letter _m_ for mother disappeared. Harry read aloud what the journal left.

“Draco will want children. I want very much to be a father. I know who the other will be.” He drew a deep breath and let it out, frustrated. “Yes, you said that before. But I _don’t_ know. And why do you keep changing it from mother to other. Other what?”

He read the entire journal entry once more. And again. He was happy just the way things were, yet he was worrying about a future event. That was why the journal erased the word content, he figured. Harry needed to let go of the angst. He picked up his quill and thought about how he really felt.

_It doesn’t matter who the mother is_

The journal left it as it was. Harry smiled to himself. He knew why it didn’t matter to him. The journal knew all along, but it took Harry a while.

_Draco will be the other _

Harry then added_ father._

The word _content_ reappeared on the page. He smiled again at the book. It really didn’t matter who the mother of those children turned out to be. He and Draco would raise them together. Harry knew that in his heart. He just needed to be reminded to trust in their love.

Harry closed the journal and put down the quill. Draco walked out onto the balcony and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry looked up at him and smiled.

“Writing in your journal again, I see,” Draco commented. “Everything all right?”

“Everything is great,” Harry answered.

Looking out at the view, with his hand still upon Harry’s shoulder, Draco cleared his throat.

“I’ve been thinking. Perhaps we ought to fix up a couple of the other bedrooms. You know, in case we need them some day.”

Harry placed his own hand over Draco’s. He knew it was an extremely large step for his lover. But clearly, he didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

“We have time,” Harry said. Now that he felt things would eventually fall into place, he was less anxious. And he could afford to be patient. “Thank you,” he whispered and squeezed Draco’s hand.

Draco leaned down and gently kissed Harry. “Anything for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Harry confessed. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“I promised that you’d never have to find out, remember?”

“I love you, _so much_.” Harry kissed Draco and pulled him onto his lap.

“I know,” Draco replied with a smirk.

Harry didn’t even mind that Draco didn’t say the words. He didn’t need to. Harry felt it.


	33. Fruition (epilogue)

May 12 2011

“Grandmama, Grandmama!” The small sandy haired girl held out her arms as she ran

Narcissa opened her arms and crouched down to greet her granddaughter, something she never dreamed she’d be doing, once she’d learned of her son’s relationship with Harry. Over the past twelve years, Narcissa did many things she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing. She hugged the five-year-old tightly for a moment before standing.

“I think you’ve grown since I left,”

The girl giggled. “Of course, I’m growing every day. That’s what Da says.”

“And where is Da?”

“I think he’s in the garden picking some flowers for your room.” The child clamped a hand over her mouth and gasped. “Now it won’t be a surprise.”

Narcissa winked. “I’ll still act surprised when I see them.”

“Mother, you’re back a bit early,” Draco greeted his mother with a kiss on her cheek. “I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”

“You owl seemed rather urgent,” she replied. “I didn’t want to miss the birth of my third grandchild.”

“The baby isn’t due for almost two weeks. You didn’t need to drop everything to come back.” He smiled softly. “So, how was your trip, anyway?”

“Lovely. But even Paris gets to be repetitive after a few months. It was time for us to come home.”

Draco gently grasped Narcissa’s left hand and frowned. “Still no ring, I see.”

“I like the arrangement the way it is. René has his home and I have mine. Besides, living here with the children keeps me feeling young.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“You know we all love having you here.” He kissed his mother again.

“Oi, Daddy! Can I go fishing with Hugo and Teddy?”

Draco groaned. Wherever Ron and Hermione’s ten-year-old went, trouble usually followed. And when he was accompanied by thirteen-year-old Teddy Lupin, it was sure to follow.

“Come say hello to Grandmama first,” Draco called to his seven-year-old son. It was difficult to deny him with his friends standing right there.

“Aw, but Daddy,” the boy whined.

Narcissa laughed. “They’re a matched set,” she observed. The three boys stood across the yard, each with auburn hair and blue eyes. Though Teddy’s attributes were more a reflection of his mates than his own.

“James! You heard your father. Get over here now.” Harry seemed to appear out of nowhere, holding a bunch of cut flowers. “Narcissa, when did you get back?” He kissed her cheek and handed her the flowers. “I was going to put these in your room.”

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She bent down to her granddaughter. “Lily, dear, would you mind giving these to Poppy and asking her to put them in a vase?”

“All right, Grandmama.” Lily skipped away, passing her brother on the way.

“Hello Grandmama,” he said in a monotone voice.

“Draco, just let him go fishing,” Narcissa said after she hugged James. “Little boys don’t want to hang out with the old folks. They want to go off with their friends.”

James perked up at his grandmother’s defense of him. “I’ll catch a frog for you, Grandmama,” James smiled.

“I’ll settle for a lily pad. Now go have fun.”

“Wait,” Harry stopped him. “Do you have your pocket watch?”

James pulled out Harry’s old watch and held it up.

“I want you boys back by three o’clock,” Harry told him. “And stick with Teddy and Hugo.”

“I will Da!” James ran back to the other boys and the three of them happily skipped down the trail leading to the pond.

Draco watched them as they went. It was hard for him to believe that his son was already seven. When he and Harry had first contacted a surrogate witch service, he figured they would have one child on whom to lavish their attention. And now they were anxiously awaiting the birth of their third.

As he watched the ginger boy walk with his friends, he smiled at the irony of fathering a redhead. Growing up, he had despised the Weasleys and often made fun of their hair. Having matured quite a bit since then, he found the colour to be rather like that of a summer sunset. The woman who gave birth to the boy had similar hair, but Draco knew that Harry’s mother had auburn hair as well. 

Each of the three children were carried by different women, for it was a great deal to ask any woman to give up one child, much less three. Each candidate had been carefully chosen, not only for their less tangible qualities, but for the their physical ones as well. Finding a combination of Draco and Harry’s coloring proved to be more of a challenge than they had first thought, and two of the three surrogates had come from foreign countries. It had been decided that both Harry and Draco would contribute DNA to the mix in creating each child, and therefore, paternity would be uncertain. Although, to Draco, it was clear that both James and Lily carried the Potter genes. Not that it mattered. The children were theirs, together. Though a small part of Draco hoped to see something of himself in this last one. A bit too much to hope, he feared. The woman they chose this time around had dark hair, like Harry’s.

Draco was brought out of his reverie by Lily, running toward the adults, yelling.

“Daddy! Da! A floo call! A floo call!” She stopped in front of them, panting and out of breath. Looking up with green eyes as big as saucers, she managed to get out, “Poppy took a floo call.”

Poppy the House Elf appeared before Harry and Draco, bowing slightly. “Masters, the Welcome Witch at the hospital called.”

“What was the message, Poppy?” Harry asked.

Poppy looked down, wringing her hands. “The baby, Masters.”

“What about the baby? “Draco demanded.

“Poppy is sorry to inform you that you missed it.”

“Missed it? You mean, we missed the baby’s birth?” Harry asked.

Nodding her head, Poppy confirmed. “Yes, Master Harry. Masters’ baby came early.”

“Well? Is it a boy or a girl?” Draco questioned the House Elf.

“Poppy didn’t ask, Master Draco.” Poppy continued to wring her hands. “Has Poppy done wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Harry answered. “It will be a surprise when we get to the hospital,” he smiled gently at her.

“Daddy, can I go too?” Lily tugged at Draco’s sleeve.

Narcissa spoke up. “Lily, why don’t you stay here with me and we can finish preparing the nursery. Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes. We still have to put the clothes away and wash the toys.” Lily ran back toward the house to begin her tasks yelling, “The baby’s here! The baby’s here!”

“Well,” Narcissa began. “Why are you two still here? Go. Go meet your new baby,” she smiled. “I’ll watch the children. They’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Draco leaned and hugged his mother. His hand shook slightly as he took Harry’s. The two apparated to the hospital straightaway.

hdhdhd

The pair approached the Welcome Witch at St. Mungo’s. She smiled as she delivered her greeting.

“Hello. How can I be of service?”

“We’re here about the Potter-Malfoy baby,” Draco said urgently.

“Yes, we’ve been expecting you,” the witch told him. “If you’ll follow me . . .” She began her usual routine by rote.

“We know where the nursery is,” Harry interrupted.

“Of course, Healer Potter,” she replied. “Go ahead. Congratulations,” she called as they hurried down the corridor.

Harry and Draco stopped in front of the nursery window, peering in to find their child. Immediately, Draco spotted a tiny head of black hair in the corner.

“That one,” he pointed. “I can’t read the label from here. Is that our baby?”

Harry leaned closer. “I can’t read it either. But the label is blue.”

“A boy,” Draco smiled. Since they already had a boy and a girl, the gender of this one didn’t matter much. However, Draco had hoped for another daughter. Lily had always loved her dolls so, and wished they were real little sisters. He supposed she would be just as happy mothering a little brother. Or bossing him around.

“Can I help you?” An assistant healer approached the pair. “Oh, Healer Potter. What are you doing on this side of the hospital?”

“We’re trying to figure out which one is our baby,” Harry told her.

The witch cocked her head, puzzled.

“We have a surrogate. Margherita Sabatino. She gave birth this morning.”

“Ah, yes. Your baby isn’t in here then. I’ll show you to Ms. Sabatino’s room.” The assistant healer led them down the hall.

Draco frowned as they walked from the nursery window. He was certain that was their baby. He looked exactly how Draco had pictured, with Harry’s hair. And then, they would have a blonde, a brunet and a red head. 

The assistant knocked gently on the door. “Excuse me. You have visitors.”

“Shh,” Margherita held her finger to her lips. “De baby is sleep,” she told them in her broken English and thick Italian accent. Luckily, she understood and spoke English well enough to communicate in a land strange to her.

Harry greeted Margherita and asked how she was doing, if there was anything they could do for her. Draco, however, went immediately to the bassinet to look at the child.

A pink knitted cap covered the baby’s head. He couldn’t have stopped the grin that spread across his face if his life had depended on it. He hadn’t realized how much he was hoping for another daughter until that moment. All the time, he had been justifying his wishes as something for Lily.

“She’s so tiny,” Draco commented. By then, Harry had joined him.

“No tinier than the other two,” he said. “Well, maybe just a bit. Her fingers are so delicate.”

“I want to pick her up, but I don’t want to wake her,” Draco squirmed. “Oh, I don’t care if she wakes up.”

He reached into the bassinet and scooped her up into his arms. The baby gave out a big shuddered sigh but didn’t otherwise wake. “She’s perfect,” Draco said with tears threatening.

Margherita smiled at the sweet scene. “You make good parent. What name you choose?”

The men both looked at her. “We haven’t narrowed it down yet,” Harry told her. “We thought we had a bit more time,” he chuckled.

Draco frowned. “None of the names we picked seem to fit her.” Suddenly, he had a change of heart.

“You don’t think she looks like a Violet? Or Daisy?”

“We just picked those because they’re flower names. Because of Lily. Even our House Elf has a flower name for crying out loud.” He looked down at his daughter. “She deserves something special. Perhaps a family name, like the other two,” Draco suggested.

Harry raised his eyebrows, “Such as?”

“I don’t know. She’s probably going to look like you. What about Harriet?”

Harry made a face. “That’s horrid. And what makes you think she’ll look like me?”

“Come on Harry. I know you’ve always tried to downplay it to spare my feelings, but James and Lily are yours. They’re the children in your dreams.”

Harry frowned. “But Olivia Tifft said she couldn’t tell if they were my biological children.”

“James looks just like pictures of your mother. I’m okay with it,” Draco assured him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love him just as he is. Lily as well. She has your green eyes.”

“You never said anything before,” Harry said.

“There was nothing to say. They’re perfect. And they’re just as much mine, like this little one. But we can’t keep calling her the baby.”

“No. Baby is not good name,” Margherita chimed in. “Baby look like my two sister, Giada and Allegra. You like this names?”

“They’re very pretty,” Harry said politely.

“I know,” Margherita said excitedly. “Bianca.”

“Bianca?”

“Sí, Bianca. Is perfect,” Margherita nodded and smiled. “Is white, no?”

Harry and Draco looked at each other, trying to figure out what they were missing. They assumed it was some sort of lack of communication due to the language barrier.

Frustrated, Margherita motioned for the baby. Hesitantly, Draco handed the bundle over. Margherita removed the knitted cap, revealing a shock of pale blond hair.

“See? White, like you.” She pointed to Draco. “Bianca. It means white in my language.”

Draco’s mouth had dropped open. He hadn’t even bothered to take off the cap, assuming that the hair underneath would match either Harry’s or Margherita’s, which were nearly the same.

“How . . .” was all Draco could get out.

“I tell you, baby look like my two sister. I am only daughter with dark hair. I have dark like Papa. My mother have light hair. So baby have light hair, like you.” She smiled at Draco.

“Harry. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. You were right before. She’s perfect just as she is.” Harry hugged Draco. “I’m glad. You’re too handsome not to have one of them look like you.”

Draco blushed slightly.

Margherita laughed heartily. “Sí , he is right. I think is better you have a girl. You are very pretty.”

Draco blushed a bit more. Fortunately for him, the Healer came in to check on Margherita and the baby, disrupting the conversation.

“How are you doing? Do you need a potion for the pain?”

“No,” Margherita shook her head. “Maybe later?”

“Has the baby eaten since this morning?” He scooped her up and opened the blanket to giver a once over.

“She eat two times. Is that good?”

“Fine,” the Healer answered. “Her color looks good. Sucking reflex good.”

“When can we take her home?” Draco asked. “Is she okay? You know, because she was a bit early.”

The Healer waved him off. “Everything is fine. She was born well within normal parameters. You can take her home in a couple of days.” The Healer grinned. “I would go home and rest up.”

“We have two others at home,” Harry told him.

“Yes, I know,” the Healer said. “I was here when your other daughter was born.”

“That’s right, I remember,” Harry said.

“But what I meant was, that I believe this little one is going to command all of your attention. There’s something about her. She’s already spoiled, being in the room with Ms. Sabatino.”

“But she cries in that big room with other babies,” Margherita frowned.

Draco picked up the baby and gazed at her scrunched up little face. Yes, he could also tell that she would have him wrapped around her little finger, much the same as the other two. He never imagined he would embrace the role of father as tightly as he had. He supposed no man did until he became a father.

hdhdhd

May 14 2011

“They’re coming soon. It’s almost two o’clock,” Lily announced to the living room full of guests. 

Hugo, Teddy and James sat in the corner with Ginny’s son, Leo, trying to play a game of exploding snap, which they were told had to stop the moment the baby arrived. Dean and Blaise held a quiet conversation in another corner, no doubt talking business, as Dean and Ginny had just invested in Blaise’s newest winery. Harper brought Blaise a fresh glass of their newest sparkling wine, curling his hand around Blaise’s waist when it was free. It had taken Blaise four years of an unsatisfying marriage to get up the nerve to confess his feelings to his bride. Much to his surprise, she not only understood, but she had also given up the love of a good man to follow the path laid out for her. They parted ways, against their families’ wishes, but remained good friends. Blaise’s family was much more open minded than he had anticipated, so he immediately sought out Harper, kicking himself for wasting so much time being miserable.

Lily and Rose, Hermione and Ron’s daughter, waited anxiously right next to the fireplace. Most of the Weasleys were present, as well as Narcissa’s sister, Andromeda. Over the years, the two had reconciled, and Andromeda and Teddy were often seen at the Manor.

Pansy, a late arrival, along with her new husband, not Theo, brought with her a gift of an eight-week-old kneazle. Lily had requested the animal a year prior, but she had very specific ideas about the coloring and it took Pansy several litters to get it just right. Lily ran to Pansy’s side as soon as she saw her new pet.

The gift’s arrival had been strategic on Draco’s part. Ostensibly given to take over some of the overly zealous excitement about the new baby, the kneazle would be a welcome distraction for Lily. However, even the cat couldn’t compete with a sister, and she dropped the animal as soon as the fireplace began to glow.

The moment Harry and Draco, carrying the child, stepped through the fireplace, they were bombarded with questions, congratulations and requests to hold the child.

“You’re going to wake her,” Draco said, annoyed. They’d all been around enough babies to know not to be so loud. “Lily, dear, give us some room,” he said gently.

“I want to see. I want to see,” she said excitedly.

“If you’d like to see, you need to sit down, so I can show you.”

Lily immediately found an empty chair and sat. Draco knelt down in front of her and carefully loosened the blanket.

Lily gasped. “She’s even smaller than some of my dolls. She’s beautiful, Daddy. Can I play with her?”

“She’s a bit too small for that yet. But don’t worry, she’ll grow soon enough.”

Lily looked up with questioning emerald eyes. “What do we call her?” It was a question on everyone’s mind.

“Well, if it’s okay with Grandmama, we’re going to name her Narcissa. But we’ll call her Cissy for short.” Draco looked to his mother.

Harry squeezed Narcissa’s shoulder as he stood next to her. “I know it was a nickname for you as well. Is that all right? If it’s not too difficult for you.”

“Nonsense,” her voice broke. “The past is past. I’m honored.” A tear or two silently escaped as she thought of her sister, Bellatrix. Not as most people remembered her, but as she was when they were children. When Bellatrix began calling her Cissy, they were young and life was simple, and it reminded Narcissa of better times.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Andromeda spoke up. “And a wonderful way to continue the Black and Potter families.” She deliberately left out the Malfoy name. “And, to keep the flower theme going,” she winked.

Draco cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, close enough I suppose. Narcissus is a flower as well. I believe it’s also called daffodil.” Andromeda raised her glass. “Here’s to the children, all of them here, the future of the wizarding world.”

They all raised their glasses. Except for Draco, who refused to have anything else in his hand as long as he was holding little Cissy. 

Harry glanced around the room. Three generations of wizards–pure-bloods, half-bloods, and muggle born, all peacefully celebrating together in Malfoy Manor. Years ago, he never thought he’d see the likes of Narcissa Malfoy raising a glass with him, much less with Molly and Arthur Weasley. Harry caught Draco’s eye, and the pair shared an unspoken moment of tenderness.

He was happier than he ever imagined possible. 

Even in his wildest dreams.

hdhdhd


End file.
